His Time To Shine
by RH4L
Summary: What if that brain at the Department of Mysteries had left more than scars on Ron's skin? What if it had left him with a gift that could turn the tide of the war? This is a RonHermione romance, with plenty of action and adventure to go along with it.
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I am not profiting from this story in any way, and only the plot is mine in the first place.

POST DATE: December 9, 2007

**PROLOGUE**

Thrashing about violently, Ronald Weasley tried desperately to dispatch the brain's tentacles as they wrapped around his arms and chest, constricting his movement and air flow. The greater his struggles became, however, the tighter the brain seemed to latch on, gouging and horrifically disfiguring the skin of his upper arms and torso. Though he knew he should be confunded, Ron strangely found himself capable of maintaining his mental awareness, though that seemed to serve him little at this moment. Even stranger was that he had the presence of mind, while gripped by panic no less, to link the incredible similarities between his current situation to a spot of trouble he had found himself in during his first year at Hogwarts, while attempting to fend off a nasty batch of Devil's Snare.

Suddenly, a door to Ron's right flew open, and running through was a severely disheveled looking Luna Lovegood. Covered in sweat and panting uncontrollably, she stopped a couple feet from Ron and shouted, "Come on, Ronald, we need you, everybody needs you!!" Luna's composure was so drastically different to her "normal" indifference that it made Ron's level of panic increase ten-fold.

Lashing out wildly in an attempt to free himself, his lungs finding it harder and harder to take in air, Ron wheezed back at her, "Help me get this BLOODY thing off!!" Rather than help, however, Luna just seemed to stand there, seemingly either unwilling or unable to help. Glancing over to see what was giving her pause, all the strength that he was struggling with temporarily left Ron's body as his eyes quickly focused on the devastating condition of his friend.

Taking in the look of this poor girl, the blood in Ron's veins seemed to turn to ice as his skin paled, highlighting his many freckles. Indeed, it was a wonder to Ron that Luna was even standing at all. Her robes were badly torn, with several burn marks still smoking, showing evidence of spell damage. Her blood seemed to be flowing freely from at least two large wounds, one on her left thigh and a terrible looking gash on her scalp above her right eye, soaking the hair in that region, streaking her dirty blond locks with Weasley red. All of the skin of her throat appeared to be blackened, as if charred by fire. Switching tactics as quickly as he could, just hoping to get her to safety while she could still move on her own, Ron told Luna, "You need to get outta here! You look like you're gonna pass out any minute!"

Fat tears were now rolling down Luna's cheeks as she continued to beg, seemingly unaware of Ron's request. "Hurry up, Ronald! Please, please come quickly. The Death Eaters, their hurting us, THEIR KILLING US!! We need your help! Please, Ronald!!"

Before he could so much as think of reengaging his tentacle-covered captor, though, he was once again struck dumb by what was happening before his eyes, as the girl before him began to change. Her hair becoming darker and her frame elongating, Luna no longer seemed to be Luna at all, in fact Luna did not even seem to be a girl anymore. Now standing before him was the pale, panicked form of Neville Longbottom, who immediately began imploring, "Hurry up, Ron, I don't know how much longer we can hold it together in there."

As he was about to ask for Neville's help out of his current predicament, Ron was interrupted as a jet of red light came blasting through the door which Luna-who-was-now-Neville had just come through, tearing through and ripping off Neville's left leg at the knee. The trauma from this atrocity blasted from Ron's mind his failing fight for freedom, forcing him to do no more than watch in shock as the now one-legged Neville adopted a strange, confused look to his face, as though he needed more time to decipher what was going on, then suddenly clutched his bloody stump and cried out in pain. Just as the horror of what had happened was beginning to sink in, however, once again the image before Ron began to morph, this time shrinking in height as his hair grew in length and became much bushier in appearance.

As the transformation completed, the image of Neville Longbottom was no longer standing before him, being replaced by a heavily injured Hermione Granger. Staring hauntingly at the man lying before her, she did not move a muscle, instead choosing to entrap her friend with an accusing gaze. Grief rolled over Ron as he took in the appearance of the gaping chest wound she possessed, which was currently leaking blood all over the front of her robes, clear to the hem. With an ashen face and an accusatory tone, Hermione slowly raised a shaking hand and pointed at her sorrow filled friend. "You promised to be there for us when we needed you Ronald, but you let us all down. Now look what's happened!! Once again, your incompetence has been our downfall. And to think; you wanted me to love you!?! How could you ever think that I would feel anything more than pity for a useless, horrible little lump like you?"

Ron wanted desperately to go to his hurt friend, to pick her up and carry her to safety, to at least fall to his knees before her and beg for her forgiveness. Trapped as he was and with his tongue betraying him, however, he could only watch on in growing shame as the figure before him continued to ooze blood from her scorched chest. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the figure once again morphed, taking on the shape of Harry, or at least what Ron believed to be Harry. It was difficult to tell, as the face of the man standing before him was missing its right half, leaving only his mouth and half of his nose behind.

Somewhere deep down, he knew that this scene was not right; that the events at the Department of Mysteries had not turned out as badly as this; but in his state of shock, Ron was not able to see this aberration standing before him for what it really was.

"How could you let this happen, mate? I depended on you, in fact, we all depended on you. We were supposed to be a team, you and me. Now Sirius is dead, and look at me! This is all your fault. I'm done for, Sirius is done for, and now there's nobody left to stop Voldemort, and it's ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!!!" Harry's voice seemed to build in strength as his accusations grew.

It pained Ron greatly to look upon this mess of a man, yet try as he might, he could not look away. Somewhere deep down, he knew that he deserved this punishment, and was fairly positive that he deserved even more. Eyes now pleading, tears rolling down his cheeks, Ron finally found his ability to at least whimper. "Please, forgive me, Harry! I tried to get free, I tried so hard!!"

Before the figure of Harry could respond to his pleas, its shape shifted once again, and to Ron's extreme horror, the massively disfigured form of his sister Ginny stood before him. Her left arm was completely missing, blown off from the shoulder, and blood covered her entire face as the majority of the top portion of her scalp was missing. Leaning down now, she took one blood covered hand and slowly stroked Ron's face, leaving a sickening trail of red in its wake.

"You're my brother, Ron; you're supposed to take care of me. Now, I'll never get to see Mum and Dad again, I'll never get to go back to the burrow again, and I'll never get to see our brothers again, and it's all because of YOU!! I wish one of my other brothers had been there. Bill, Charlie, the twins, even Percy would have been a better protector than you!!" As a final show of the disgust she felt with her brother, Ginny spat what blood was in her mouth in his face. A fresh tear now trickled down his cheek, the shame of what he'd done too great to bear, yet he still could not look away from his penance, a penance he knew he had earned.

Desperately trying to plead for her forgiveness, Ron whispered to his bloody mess of a sister, "I'm sorry I've failed you, Ginny. I wanted to keep you safe, I just couldn't. I wasn't strong enough, I didn't know how. Please forgive me."

Suddenly morphing yet again, Ginny changed into not just one figure, but two, namely Arthur and Molly Weasley, Ron's parents. Molly glared at her youngest son, taking on a harsh tone before speaking. "And how is it that she could possibly forgive you, Ronald!?! How could anyone forgive you? We counted on you to keep her safe, and yet what do you do? Let her go, gallivanting off to the Department of Mysteries! She's just a child, Ronnie, how could you let this happen? Now, I've lost my only daughter, my baby girl, and more than that, I've lost you as well. I can't even stand to look at you." With that, Molly quickly turned her back on her son. Ron wanted desperately to reach out to her, to beg and grovel for forgiveness if necessary. Above all else, no matter what, he had always at least had the support of his Mum and Dad to fall back on, but now he appeared in danger of losing that as well.

Finally looking over from his mother to his father, Ron received an icy, menacing glare that he did not even think his father possible of giving. "I'm only still looking at you to tell you that as of now, you are no longer a member of this family. You're a disgrace, Ron, a complete and utter disgrace. When I think about the fact that you were born to your mother and I, it sickens me! DO NOT bother coming back to the burrow, for there is no home waiting for you there. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I've wasted enough time on you, you worthless excuse for a son!!"

* * *

Springing up to a sitting position on his bed, Ron bellowed into the darkness of his room, "NO! PLEASE MUM AND DAD!! I SWEAR I'LL DO BETTER, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME!!!" He was breathing hard, tears were streaming down his face, and he was covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Looking down at his chest, fully expecting to see a brain connected to several tentacles writhing and cutting into his skin, all Ron could make out by the faint moonlight coming through the window were the shadowy remains of the scar tissue left from injuries suffered weeks before.

Just as comprehension was dawning and he was realizing that he had had THE nightmare yet again, Ron's bedroom door suddenly burst open with a force great enough for the door handle to punch a hole in the wall as it collided into it. A blur of dressing gown and red hair came barreling towards him. Before Ron could even think of what was happening, he was engulfed in an incredibly strong bear hug, as a frantic voice began to reel off, "Oh, my poor, poor Ronniekins! Everything is going to be alright, it was just a bad dream my baby. Mummy's here now, everything is going to be alright."

Quickly wiping his tear-stained face off on his mother's dressing gown and saying a silent prayer to anybody who might happen to be listening asking that Fred and George please, please, oh please not be staying over tonight, Ron began the long process of detangling himself from his frantic mother before anyone could see them in this state. "I'm fine Mum, it was just a bad dream, nothing to get all freaked out about," came Ron's muffled response to his mother's ranting.

"Is everything alright, son? We heard some yelling," was the concerned response of Ron's father. Thankfully, his dad seemed to be taking things much more calmly than his mum.

"I'm fine, Dad, it was just a bad dream. Actually, I think I was more scared by Mum flying in here like a witch with her hair on fire than anything else." Ron's feeble attempt at humor to lighten up the situation earned him a momentary glare from his mum, and the smallest traces of a smile from his dad.

"I can stay with you until you go back to sleep if you like, yes, why don't I do that. In fact, Arthur, I think I'm just going to stay down here with my Ronnie tonight," Molly stated, drawing a look of horror from her son. Not wanting things to get any worse, and knowing full well that the twins would be absolutely relentless if they knew that their mum had to stay and comfort her 'baby Ronniekins' all night, Ron turned his most pleading face to his father in hopes that he could help stabilize this quickly deteriorating situation.

The look must have worked because, with a slight smirk on his face, Arthur placed a calm but firm hand on Molly's arm and began to pull her away from Ron's bed. "Nonsense, Dear, the boy just had a bad dream is all. Let's go back to bed and let him get some sleep."

"But, what if he gets…"

"I'm sure he'll be fine for the rest of the night, won't you Son?" Arthur quickly replied, hoping to head her off from gaining any kind of momentum. A Molly with momentum was a Molly that could not be stopped, he, above all, knew.

"Absolutely, Dad. I'm already feeling much better," Ron said thankfully while tacking on the most pleasant smile he could muster, even though in truth he was still quite upset.

"See now, everything's fine," Arthur assured his slightly unsure wife.

"Alright, well, I suppose you seem OK, but if you need us, remember, I'm just down stairs." With that, Molly stood up and was half dragged, half walked into the hall. Reaching the door jam, Arthur turned to take one final look at his son, who gratefully mouthed "thank you" to him. Giving his son one last reassuring smile, Arthur closed his son's door and steered his wife back to their bedroom.

* * *

Once the coast seemed clear, and his visitors seemed gone for good, Ron slowly lay back on his bed, finally letting the guilt from the dream that he had been holding back wash over him anew. Tears once again sprang into the corners of his eyes, trickling down into his ears. So consumed was he, that he did not notice his bedroom door open once again, nor did he notice the red-headed girl quietly walking over to his bedside, setting a glass of water on his nightstand. Standing and contemplating how to approach the conversation she wished to have with her most stubborn of brothers, she finally decided that being direct and to the point would be her best chance. "You know, it helps to talk about it," she finally said, in a voice much more strong than how she felt.

Startled from his reverie and jumping somewhat badly, Ron looked over at the moonlit silhouette of his younger sister and stated shakily, "Ginny! You scared me half to death! What're you doing in here?"

Sensing his apprehension at seeing him this way, Ginny knew she was going to have to be strong if she was going to get through to him. "Come off it, Ron, half of England heard you when you woke up; you know why I'm here. Are you OK?"

"I'm fine, Ginny, now please, go back to bed." Ron rolled over and turned his back to her, hoping against hope that she would take the hint. As he knew would be the case, there was no such luck.

"Uh-uh, no way, I came here for a reason, and I'm not leaving until I get you to talk about this. Now, don't be upset, but I know that this isn't the first nightmare you've had like this…"

"And how exactly do you know that?" Ron asked, rolling back over and sitting up, his anger beginning to burn like a wildfire.

Rather timidly, Ginny replied, "now, like I said, don't get mad, but maybe….perhaps…..harrymight'vetoldme." Ginny spoke this last part quickly, with dim hopes that Ron might not have heard it. Once again, no such luck.

"HE WHAT!?!?!"

"Hey! Quiet down or you'll have Mum back in here, and do you really want that?" Ginny questioned of her brother.

After mumbling something inaudible involving 'murder' and 'the-boy-who-lived', Ron turned his most stony expression to his very nosy sister. "He had no right. I can't help what I say in my sleep, but he should have kept his bloody nose to his bloody self."

"Ron! The point is not that Harry told me, the point is that I can help….I WANT to help," Ginny pleaded with her brother.

"There's nothing you can do, you don't know what you're talking about, so just BUTT OUT!" Ron bellowed these last two words, figuring that since reasoning hadn't worked, maybe pure intimidation would. Alas, he forgot that on his best day, he could never come close to the intimidation factor that Ginny could.

"Ya know, you and Harry are so alike sometimes. Neither one of you stubborn idiots thinks that anyone else could possibly know what you're going through, that your situation is so bloody 'unique'. Well, I've got news for you, Ronald, I DO know what you've been going through, or do you forget that I spent the entire summer after my first year waking up at odd hours of the night having just as bad, if not worse, dreams as you!!"

Ron leaned further and further back with each passing word. In a small part of his brain, Ron was very much amazed at how this little girl, more than a foot shorter that he and weighing more than ninety pounds less, could be so unbelievably scary some times. By the time her rant was finished, he had quite a bit of guilt to go along with his current fear of his sister.

"That summer, after the Chamber of Secrets, I was so messed up. And do you know what the thing that helped me the most was? Hmmm? You, you bloody prat!" Ginny nearly yelled this last part, barely containing her voice so as not to reawaken her parents.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, confusion now plastered on his face.

Taking a seat beside her brother, Ginny said, "I mean, remember when I would have those awful nightmares, then afterwards, Mum would of course do her 'freaking out' thing…" at this Ron snorted, "…and then after she would go back to bed, you would show up at my door with a glass of water and a shoulder to cry on. Sitting there, crying and talking all that late night gibberish to you was probably the most helpful thing I could have possibly done."

"Yeah, but that was different," Ron hastily replied, now not quite being able to look his sister in the eye.

"How so? What, because I'm a GIIIRRRLLL? Please, Ron, get off you bloody high horse and just admit that you need someone to talk to. Even if it isn't me…." At this last part, Ginny's voice trailed off and she seemed to become sad.

Silence prevailed for several minutes after this last statement, while Ron and Ginny sat, alone in their thoughts. Finally taking his silence as a bad sign, Ginny rose to her feet and quickly said, "You know what, maybe this was a mistake. You obviously don't have any problems that you are willing to let someone LIKE ME help you with, so good-bye, Ronald," and she turned to storm from the room.

Just as she was beginning to walk, Ginny felt a hand on her elbow, firmly gripping her. As she turned, Ron stood up, and she was forced to look up into his eyes. The pain she saw there was almost enough to break her heart in two, and if she didn't know that she had to remain strong for her brother, she no doubt would have broken down right then and there.

Finally, after a few seconds, tears began to stream down Ron's face as he mumbled, "I couldn't save any of you, Ginny. I wanted to so bad, you all needed me so bad, but when it counted, when you needed me the most, I couldn't do it." With that, the brother and sister collapsed into each other's arms.

Taking up a more comfortable sitting position on the bed, Ginny continued to hold her sobbing brother, placing his head on her shoulder, feeling the pain and grief roll out of him as he choked out the gist of his dream to her.

"Why are you doing this to yourself, Ron? We all made it out of there, alive, and besides you and Hermione, mostly unscratched. Why are you putting yourself through this?" She could not understand why he was torturing himself needlessly.

"Yeah, you guys made it, but what if you hadn't? What if you had needed me? I sure as hell couldn't have done anything to save you, what with being confunded and all. Hell, I'm too much of a bloody idiot, aren't I?"

Right then and there, Ginny desired above all else to smack her brother for sounding so foolish. "Stop being so stupid, Ron. Yes, you were taken out, but that could have happened to any one of us, you just got the luck of the draw. We all have our own feelings to deal with because of that damned Department of Mysteries, but the last thing you need to be doing is beating yourself up over something you had no control over, am I right?"

Seeing Ron's silence, Ginny sadly realized that she had gotten as far with her brother this night as she was going to get. Not knowing what else to do, she simply grabbed him and held him once more. After several minutes and a few more tears had passed, Ron slowly removed himself from his sister's arms, and stood up. "Well, I have to admit, I do feel a little better. I think I'm gonna go to the loo and wash up a bit before I give another shot at this sleeping thing."

Standing up herself and walking to the door, Ginny turned back and said, "I hope I was of some help tonight, Ron. If you need me, you know where I'll be." With that, she turned to leave.

"Ginny?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"Please don't tell anyone about the whole crying thing. The last thing I need is for that stuff to get back to Fred and George."

Sniggering a little, Ginny smiled back at her brother, "Of course not, why would I do that when they already have so much to use against you?"

Ducking as a pillow from Ron's bed came hurtling at her head, Ginny heard Ron jokingly reply, "Yeah right. Thanks a lot, Gin-Gin."

Sticking out her tongue at her brother's use of her most despised nickname, she finally smiled sweetly and uttered, "Any time, Ronniekins," then turned to leave once again.

"Ginny?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Ron. Goodnight."

* * *

Making his way into the loo and turning on the lamp, Ron walked over to the wash basin and filled it with hot water. Splashing himself in the face several times, he stood up straight and looked at himself in the mirror. With no minor amount of disgust, he trailed his fingers softly over the scar tissue on his chest. Looking himself in the eye, he finally shook his head, emptied the wash basin, and turned out the lamp. Leaving the room and heading back to bed, he silently wondered how it was that a sixteen year old boy could have such old looking eyes.

* * *

While he had paid great attention to his scarred chest and old looking eyes, Ron obviously paid no attention to his hair, or he would have noticed that, instead of having his normal Weasley shade of ginger, his hair had somehow inexplicably turned a chocolate shade of brown.

* * *

A/N: And there we have it, ladies and gentlemen. I am very excited with this story, as it is my first attempt at a romance involving not only my most favorite of couples, Ron and Hermione, but also having my most favorite character, Ron, as my lead. I know this first chapter was a bit sappy, but it's just a prologue, I'm not supposed to get into anything too juicy yet, I just want to wet your appetites. Anyways, I hope you all liked my interaction between Ron and Ginny. Too many times I've seen other authors make these two out to seem more like enemies than actual brother and sister. I wanted to point out that Ginny does actually _love_ her brother, regardless of what some, we'll leave them nameless, authors might think. Anyways, tell me what you think, reviews are much appreciated. Oh, and if anyone out there might be willing to lend me any betaing services, I would greatly appreciate it.

Cheers!!


	2. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I am not profiting from this story in any way, and only the plot is mine in the first place.

POST DATE: December 15, 2007

**CHAPTER 1**

A short few hours later (entirely too short in Ron's opinion), the full-lunged shout of his mum announcing that breakfast would soon be ready ended yet another torturous, fruitless attempt at nightly rest for one Ronald Weasley. With his lids still closed tightly, he slowly raised his balled fists and deeply rubbed his eye sockets, attempting to reduce some of the stinging, which was unfortunately one of the many negatives accrued by a lack of quality sleep. After a few seconds, he quit his attempt at comfort, coming to the sad realization that there was none to be had. Continuing to lie still, he began his newly developed habit of debating with himself whether a meal was worth the trip downstairs or not.

Once upon a time, Ron could be counted upon not only to be the first person to arrive for a meal, but also one of the last to leave. Indeed, his appetite had reached near legendary status, even amongst his five brothers, who were no slouches when it came to eating themselves. Ever since his ordeal at the DoM (Department of Mysteries), however, the reverse was more likely to be true, if he even bothered to show up at all.

For Ron, it wasn't so much that he wasn't hungry, but more like he was preoccupied, for it was not only his nights that were haunted by memories. Seeing his parents and the looks they always gave him often proved too much guilt for him to handle. Though he knew full well that they were only concerned, deep down, he just couldn't shake the belief that they were also just the slightest bit disappointed. Merlin knows he was, so how could they not be? Not only had he allowed his sister, his _only sister_ whom he was supposed to protect at all cost, to go on such a dangerous mission, but on top of that, he hadn't even been able to keep her protected once they were there.

That guilt, though, was nothing compared to what he felt when he had to be around his brothers. Though they would never admit it openly, he could see the looks on the faces of Fred, George and Bill. Had Charlie been around, no doubt he would have been just as bad. No, they didn't need to say anything, for the message was very clear.

All six Weasley boys had been trained since her birth to understand that their number one priority was always to keep Ginny safe and out of harm. For Ron, this was especially true, for he was not only the closest to his sister in age, but also in familiarity. Though they all loved each other very much, with such age difference amongst the seven children, certain cliques were bound to form. Bill had Charlie, the twins had each other, Percy had…well, Percy had his ambition, and Ron had Ginny. The pairings were not only close, but were, at least on a subconscious level, expected by the others to watch out for each other. That's just the way things worked, well, how they used to work, anyways. Now, though, Ron knew things would never be the same.

After pondering the pros and cons for a while, he decided that at least showing his face for a few minutes in the morning would earn him less of a hassle later on in the day, and rose stiffly from his bed. After performing a successful sniff test on one of the many shirts littering the floor of his room, Ron dressed himself and made his way to the loo to wash up a bit.

Looking in the mirror, he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, running his now wet hands through his ginger hair, finally coming to the conclusion that trying to make anything presentable of his tangled locks would be too much trouble.

Just as he was about to empty the sink, his attention was drawn to his chin. Looking closer, Ron was dismayed to see a rather large, volcano-like protrusion had taken up residence there. 'Great, on top of everything else, I get bloody Pompeii growing onto my chin. Better wash it out and pop it now, or it'll probably just get worse,' he thought to himself. Rubbing a fresh lather of soap onto his hands, he scrubbed his face harshly, focusing on the blemished area.

After several minutes of this, he rinsed his face and looked into the mirror, preparing himself for the "pimple appreciation ceremony" as George had once called it. To his shock, however, he was unable to find his puss-filled friend, as the skin on his chin now looked smooth and flawless. "Hmmm, must have imagined it," he muttered. "Oh well, at least that's one less thing to worry about."

Not giving the situation another thought, he emptied the sink and half walked, half dragged his way down to the kitchen.

* * *

Pausing briefly at the kitchen door, Ron took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for what was coming. He had heard the twins' raucous laughter on his way down the stairs, so he knew straight away that he had, at the very least, _them_ to look forward to. No doubt by now his father would be reading the Daily Prophet and drinking a final cuppa before apparating to work. 'At least Ginny will be there,' he thought to himself.

Though he didn't know why, for some reason, ever since the DoM, the only family member he could stand to be around for any length of time was his sister. The most likely cause of this was that she simply refused to be pushed away, and for every attempt Ron made to distance himself, she simply doubled her efforts to remain close. Also though, he felt that, with Ginny having been the only other member of his family present at the DoM that day, they had a sort of…special understanding between them that none of the others could possess.

Finally pushing all thoughts from his head, Ron opened the door and entered the busy room.

At the table already were Fred, George and his dad. The twins paid no attention to their brother's entrance, busying themselves with a combination of eating and secretive conversation. 'Better watch my back today, the way their scheming,' Ron thought. His dad had his head buried in the Profit, though upon hearing the door open he looked up and offered a smile while saying, "Good morning, Son." Before Ron could finish his reply, he directed his attention back to the article he had been reading.

"Mornin', Dad," the boy mumbled back. Looking to his right, he saw his mum working at the stove, preparing more food to add to the usual Weasley breakfast feast. Beside her stood Ginny, chopping some wild onion stalks, presumably to add to the potatoes. Hearing her father, she looked around and smiled briefly at her brother before turning back to her work. As quickly and quietly as possible, Ron took a seat at the far end of the table from his brothers, where he proceeded to wait silently for his food to arrive.

A few short moments later, Mrs. Weasley strode to the table quickly, carrying a plate laden with food. Placing the plate in front of her youngest son, she quickly leaned over and kissed the top of his head and said, "Good morning, Ronnie dear. Did you have any more trouble sleeping last night?"

From the corner of his eye, Ron could see Fred and George's conversation stop immediately, their eyes gleaming like those of a hunter who has just caught on to the trail of his prey. Trying to diffuse the situation, he quickly replied, "Of course, Mum, why wouldn't I sleep alright?" Though the words sounded true enough, he knew that the trademark Weasley blush must be giving him away.

Patting him affectionately on the shoulder, she headed back to the stove while saying, "Well, if you have anymore nightmares, let me know, and I'll get the ingredients to make a few doses of dreamless sleep."

Ron could only look on in disbelief as his mother seemed oblivious to her son's desires to keep his sleeping…situation quiet. After glaring in her direction for a few seconds, he turned his head in the direction of his brothers, noting immediately the near feral grins plastered across their faces.

"Awww, what's the matter, is our little Ronniekins having nightmares?" questioned Fred.

"It would appear so, dear brother mine. Please tell us, oh silent one, what ever is the problem? We only want to help your plight, after all," rang in George directly after.

At the conclusion of this, a rather loud snort could be heard from the area where Ginny was working. Glancing briefly in her direction, the twins turned their focus quickly back to the object of their attention. Trying not to attract any more ridicule, Ron silently stared at his food, pushing it around his plate with his fork. Unfortunately, he knew through years of experience that they were just getting started.

"You know, brother, I bet he wasn't having a bad dream at all," said George, his grin expanding even further.

"Why, I do believe you are correct, my most handsome of friends. In fact, I'm willing to bet he was having rather _wonderful_ dreams, as he does every other night," added Fred.

'Oh no, here it comes. I should have seen this one coming, they haven't made fun of me about Luna it quite a while,' he thought to himself. Since it had been made common knowledge that a certain eccentric, blond-haired school mate was harboring what seemed to be a bit of a crush on him, the twins had been relentless in their mockery, often goading their brother well past normal anger and directly into explosive territory. Stabbing his fork at a piece of potato, Ron tried his best to ignore their taunts.

Not buying his brother's indifference for one minute, George pushed a little harder and said, "Indeed, why, I can see how such… excitement could keep the poor lad up to all hours of the – Ow! Hey! What the bloody hell was that for?"

Rubbing the back of his head, George turned quickly along with Fred to see their little sister standing directly behind him, holding a wooden spoon in her wand hand. Smirking slightly, she looked at both troublemakers before saying, "Oh, I don't know, why don't you two keep traveling down the road you were just on, and I'm sure it will come to you, along with a few other bumps and bruises." With that, she turned on her heal and headed back to the counter, obviously satisfied that the situation had been handled.

It was common knowledge throughout the Weasley household that there was only one person who could truly control the wrecking ball known as Fred and George, and that person was Ginny. Though no one knew exactly how, she had, on more than one occasion, managed to stop their otherwise unstoppable antics. To Ron, the answer was simple: they were simply frightened of her, as all the rest of her brothers were; for while she may have been younger and smaller than her siblings, she definitely possessed a cunning and determination that was, to say the least, formidable. She did not overly abuse this power she held, however, only using it when she felt she needed to, for one reason or another.

Still rubbing his head, George stood from his seat and scowled at his sister, then remarked in an agitated tone, "Well, I can see that truly inspired entertainers such as myself and my not-so-better half here are not desired, so I believe that an exit to stage left is in order." Grabbing two pieces of bread, he then proceeded to fill between them a mixture of all foods being served, and finally wrapped his odd concoction in a napkin and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

Following in his brother's footsteps, Fred rose from his chair and was about to make his way to his mum to say goodbye when inspiration struck suddenly. Looking into George's eyes and feeling elated at seeing the look of comprehension there, both young men quickly reached into their pockets and produced what would look to any muggle like rolls of lip balm. Each having smeared their lips heavily with the clear looking substance, they then moved over to where their mother was still manning her station at the stove, George going to her left and Fred to her right. Leaning in at exactly the same time, each planted a big, loud smack on her cheeks, then leaned back and smiled widely.

"Bye, Mum, have an absolutely fabulous day!" Fred squeaked out, barely able to hold back his laughter.

"Yes, Mum, I have a feeling that today will be very…colorful for you!" followed George.

Oblivious to their mischievous actions, Mrs. Weasley smiled briefly at her twin sons before mumbling back, "Goodbye, boys. Don't forget to take your lunches; they're over there on the counter. Have a good day at work, and for heaven's sake, try not to make anything, or _anyone_ for that matter, explode or anything."

Still grinning, Fred and George walked to the doorway leading to the family room where the fireplace was located, saying at the same time, "Why Mum, we're insulted that you'd even think us capable of such things. You know very well that we only blow people up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today's Monday, you silly goose!" They received a disbelieving huff for their trouble.

Reaching the doorway, both men turned to face their family, Fred saying, "Thus concludes yet another wonderfully exciting production of 'Eating with the Twins'."

Following directly after, George rang out, "Please, please, no requests for an encore, we really haven't the time." Having finished their speech, both swept their arms out wide and bowed deeply, then turned and left the room. Shortly thereafter, the whoosh of the floo could be heard.

Throughout their entire act, Ron's eyes remained glued to his plate, his fork continuing to push food from one side to the other, occasionally stopping to lift a morsel to his lips. With their mum's attention being held by her cooking, she barely heard the twins' words as they left the room. Only Ginny paid any attention, laughing lightly and shaking her head from side to side at their theatrical exit. Still smiling, she turned to finish up cleaning her countertop when she caught sight of her mother, and came to a dead stop. After a few seconds of disbelieving shock, the young girl suddenly burst out into gales of laughter so hard that she seemed barely able to remain standing.

Hearing her daughters sudden hysterics, Mrs. Weasley turned to look at her youngest child, now beet red in the face, and asked in a mildly agitated tone, "Whatever is so funny?"

Unable to speak, Ginny merely pointed at her mother's head and then swirled her hand in a circle around her own face before beginning to laugh even harder.

Her agitation changing to confusion, Mrs. Weasley finally asked, "Are you trying to tell me I have something on my face? I don't see what's so funny about having a bit of egg on my cheek or something." Walking to the sink, she looked at her faint reflection in the window beyond and shrieked, "WHAT!?!? WHY……THOSE…….I'M GONNA……BOOOOYYYYSSSSSS!!!!!" Hearing this rant, Ginny finally lost her ability to remain standing, falling to the floor and holding her aching middle.

Looking back at Mrs. Weasley from the reflected window was, as expected, her own startled face. However, what was not expected was the change in color that she seemed to have undergone. Gone was her normal milky white complexion; now it was replaced by the _usually_ beloved Gryffindor house colors, gold on the right side, scarlet on the left. The new coloration reached into her hair line, stopped just shy of her ears, and ended right before reaching the collar of her blouse. Finally getting over her shock enough to move, she reached up to rub her skin, only to find out that this color seemed to be naturally embedded, rather than just some sort of paint.

Balling her hands up into shaking fists, she merely stood still for the next few minutes, before finally turning to her daughter, who had now wisely rose to her feet and stopped her laughter, and ground out through gritted teeth, "Eat your breakfast, then you and your brother go out and keep working on the shed. I'm going to go have a _short chat_ with your trouble making brothers. I don't suspect I'll be long." With that, she turned and walked to the door, no even bothering to cover up her spirit filled face. Reaching the door, she said (without turning back), "Oh, and you only have to work 'til lunch today, as I have a bit of a surprise for you both that I think you'll quite like," and with that she was gone.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Ron continued to stare blankly at his food, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings. Sitting down with a full plate next to her brother, Ginny chuckled lightly before saying in a light-hearted voice, "Did you see the look on Mum's face? I don't think I'm gonna be able to look at her again without crackin' up for a week!"

Without looking up, her brother replied flatly, "Yeah, she was quite the picture. See ya outside," then rose, dropped his plate unceremoniously into the sink, and left for his room to get changed. Shaking her head, Ginny ate her meal in silence, desperately pondering what she could do to help her brother find his way back to his life.

* * *

Having finished her meal and changed into some work clothes, Ginny walked out into the back garden where Ron was already busy tearing old boards off of the garage. Walking up to him, she tapped him on the shoulder and asked, "Ron, do you know where the other pry bar is? I can't remember where I left it yesterday." Silently and without turning around, he hooked his thumb over his left shoulder to the grass in front of a bush, upon which was laying the eighteen inch long tool. Walking over and grabbing it, she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the manual labor that lay ahead.

Though they did not harbor their initial anger at their children's actions at the DoM any longer, both Mrs. and Mr. Weasley felt that what they did could not go unpunished. After a great deal of debate, the two finally decided that the punishment would consist of re-siding and re-painting the garage, a chore Mr. Weasley had purchased the lumber to accomplish about two years ago and had just not gotten around to yet. So, for the last week, ever since Ron had healed enough from his injuries to be able to work, they had been toiling from morning to evening, tearing the old siding off in preparation of applying the new afterwards. Of course, as they were both under age, this task would have to be accomplished by hand, using muggle methods, much to their chagrin.

After half an hour or so Ginny stopped, wiping the sweat from her brow after having worked diligently to remove a particularly resistant nail. Taking off her gloves, she said, "Whew, it's gonna be another scorcher today, I just know it. Ya know, the only good thing about this whole punishment is that, by the time we're done, we're both gonna have great tans!" Hoping to see that she had brought a smile to her brother's face, her own faltered slightly upon seeing his impassive expression. He merely grunted in reply, and then stopped working long enough to remove his shirt before continuing.

Trying once again to lighten up the conversation, she casually remarked, "Yeah, this sun is doing wonders for out tans, but I sure could do without the heat. I'd give anything for a cloud to pass by right about now." Once again, seeing that her brother would not respond, she gave up and said in a defeated tone, "Hey, I'm going inside for a drink of water, you want one?" He nodded in reply, before ripping a board viciously with his tool. Taking this as a yes, Ginny moved to the kitchen to retrieve the drinks.

Exiting the house, she was surprised to find that it was much darker outside than when she had gone in. Looking up, she saw a small patch of low-lying clouds had moved itself into just the right position to block out the sun from the garden. 'Funny,' she thought, 'I could've sworn there wasn't even a single cloud in the sky when I looked up a few minutes ago. Oh well, might as well enjoy what I've got while I've got it.'

Walking behind her brother, she waited until he was still, and then pressed the cool glass against his back, causing him to jump in surprise and drop his pry bar.

"Ginny! Whadda ya think you're doin'?" he near shouted, a sour look plastered on his face.

"So, it does speak, after all," she said, laughing lightly. "Relax, relax, don't get your knickers in a twist, I was just goofin' a bit. Here, it's nice and cold." He took the glass from her hand and drank deeply.

After a few minutes of silence, Ron finally drained the last of his water and set down the glass. Just as Ginny was sure he was gonna start working and ignore her completely, he stopped and remarked quietly, "Sorry about yelling, but you shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

Thankful for the opportunity to finally converse a bit, she decided to try to raise his ire just a little, to keep him going if nothing else. "Oh, don't worry about it, I don't consider my day complete until I've heard some kind of girlie hissy-fit from my _big, strong_ older brother."

Hoping for an angry retort, she was thoroughly disappointed when he merely shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his bar. Quickly, an emotion filled Ginny; one she soon recognized to be anger. Never in his life had Ron just shrugged off a put-down like that, and the sight of it infuriated her.

Walking behind him, she quickly reached around and grabbed the claw of his pry bar before he could swing it, yanking the tool from his hands. When he turned to see what was going on, he came face to face with a tomato-red little sister. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU!?!?!?" she shouted.

"What are you on about?" he asked, his tone remaining indifferent.

"I mean, I want to know where my brother is, 'cause he sure isn't standing next to me. The only thing I see in front of me right now is an empty shell, a pathetic, moping wimp!" After a few moments of his continued silence, Ginny was surprised to find that she had lost control of her hands, as her right palm flew up and slapped Ron's left cheek.

Shocked by her action, he raised his hand and traced lightly the part of his cheek that had been assaulted. Coming back to his senses, his expression soon became violently stormy as he shouted back, "I SHOULD BE ASKING WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!!"

Smiling victoriously, she shouted back, "THAT'S RIGHT, GET MAD, GET PISSED, GET ANYTHING! Just don't go back to being all mopy, or I swear I'll hit you again. Moping around acting like you're dead isn't going to make you any better Ron, and it's time for you to figure that out." She finished much more quietly than she had started, almost pleading for her brother to understand.

Taking a defensive stance, he bitterly spat, "Don't try and help with things you don't understand."

"You seem to forget one small detail, Ron: _I was there too!!_ I went through everything you did, and you don't see me walking around like I died there," she retorted.

Finally losing his control, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shouted back, "THAT'S BECAUSE YOU WERE ACTUALLY OF SOME USE! YOU actually helped all the way to the end! YOU helped make sure that everyone made it out safe! YOU…you didn't get wrapped up by that stupid brain, and YOU weren't so bloody doped up by a spell that YOU became useless to everyone." Finishing his rant, he seemed to lose all his strength and sagged to the ground, holding his face in his hands. Tears sprung to his eyes uncontrollably.

Crouching immediately, she wrapped her brother in a hug, rocking him back and forth, while whispering comfortingly in his ear. Finally, he leaned back and choked out, "I see them every night, you know."

A look of confusion taking over her features, she asked, "See who?"

"Them. You. All of you at the Ministry. Every night when I try to sleep, I keep having this horrible nightmare where I watch all of you die, one at a time. _Every night_ since the whole mess happened. It's like I can't control it. I mean, I know how things happened, and even though I know I couldn't control what happened, I keep _feeling_ all these strong feelings of remorse. It's like I've lost control of my emotions, ya know? I mean look at me, I never cry, and now I've become a blubberin' mess right in front of my little sister twice in the last eight bloody hours!"

Releasing her hug and standing up, Ginny offered her hand to her brother, which he reluctantly took. Pretending not to notice the state he was in, she merely turned and picked up her pry bar before saying, "Look, I understand how you feel, but you've got to recognize that what you're doing isn't healthy. I, no _we_, are all here to help you, but you have to want to be helped, ya know? Now, come on, I want to get the rest of this stuff off the walls before lunch." With that, she resumed working, hoping to Merlin she was right in thinking he needed to be left alone right now.

Seeing that she was giving him some space, Ron gratefully picked up his own pry bar, and began working also, his mood strangely better than it had been all day. For the rest of the morning, the two worked in silence.

* * *

At one o'clock, just as the last of the loose boards were being rounded up and piled neatly, Mrs. Weasley stuck her head out the door and shouted, "Ron! Ginny! Come on in for lunch, your surprise is here waiting for you in the kitchen!" Finishing her statement, she turned and briskly re-entered the home.

Putting the tools in a pile and grabbing Ron's shirt, the two quickly made their way to the kitchen, glad to remove themselves from the near oppressive early July heat. As soon as they entered, they were bombarded with two female voices shouting "SURPRISE!"

Once their eyes took time to adjust to the light, the two teenagers finally were able to see the person standing before them. While all the color seemed to drop from Ron's face as his expression took on one of shock, Ginny smiled brightly, ran over and threw her arms around her good friend's neck, hugging her tightly while squealing, "Hermione!"

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I know, just a bit of a cliffie, but nothing too bad. Well, I really must say, thank you all sooooo much for the encouragement. The other two stories I am writing are not as main stream as this one, so I was amazed at how great the response was to my first chapter. To comment on this chapter, I just want to say that I realize that I've been portraying Ron as a bit of a mess, but, well, things have been rough for him, and I want to make sure to convey that. Anyway, that's about it for me this chapter, keep on reviewing; it makes me feel good about what I'm doing. Now for a bit of love to my reviewers:

**wasu:** I hope to update at least once a week, but I am working on two other stories as well, so there may be some gaps from time to time.

**GregsLabrat:** As you saw in this chapter, his hair did return to normal color. Interesting that it changed in the first place though……

**Mists:** There will definitely be plenty of Harry and Ron moments, both good and bad.

Finally, **Trude, Dreamer758, insertbrilliancehere, helpmydeath and scribblez**, along with everyone else reading this story, thanks a ton for all the encouragement, I hope you stick with me to the end!

Cheers!!


	3. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I am not profiting from this story in any way, and only the plot is mine in the first place.

POST DATE: December 19, 2007

**CHAPTER 2**

Picking up his T-shirt, Ron wiped the drenching sweat from his arms and chest, which had become rather uncomfortable. At two o'clock in the afternoon, it was now the hottest part of the day, and unfortunately for Ron and Ginny, this summer seemed to be breaking all types of high temperature records.

Glancing over at his sister, he called out, "Care to take a water break?" Seeing her nod as she reached up and wiped the sweat from her own face, he filled two glasses from the pitcher Hermione had brought out earlier. Finally handing Ginny her glass, he took a seat, leaning up against the trunk of a tree, taking comfort in what little shade its branches offered.

Sitting next to her brother, Ginny looked over at him then looked away in disgust, muttering, "I really wish you wouldn't do that. It's unfair."

Closing his eyes and leaning his head against the tree trunk without even looking at her, he questioned, "What are you on about then?"

"Taking your bloody shirt off, that's what I'm _on about_. First of all, it's bloody unfair, and second, _most importantly_, do you have any idea how disgusting it is to have to hang out with my half naked brother all day, every day? Gives me bloody nightmares, I'm tellin' you." Her eyes suddenly taking on a mischievous gleam, she continued, "Maybe I should return the favor some time…"

Spitting what water he had just taken into his mouth back out, he jumped from his seat and scurried backwards clumsily several feet from his sister, finally coming to rest at the edge of the shade line and blurting out, "No you bloody well will not! That's disgusting, and I'll not have my sister running around like some kind of…of-"

Cutting her brother off, she challenged, "Some kind of what, Ron? Please, oh please finish that sentence. I haven't had anything truly good to be pissed off at you about yet this summer."

Taking in his sister's malicious glare, Ron sputtered back, "I wasn't…I'm not saying…all I'm saying is _that_ just isn't right!"

Holding her glare as long as she could, Ginny finally broke down into peels of laughter. When she could finally breath well enough to speak, she said, "Take it easy, Ronniekins, I was just foolin'. Don't worry; I won't make you go blind, not with two more weeks left to build this stupid garage! Though, seeing how easy it was to make you back down, it is good to know that I still rule you!" Finishing this last statement, her expression became one of superiority.

Huffing indignantly at her remark, Ron threw his sweat soaked shirt at her face before reclaiming his seat. Losing his drive for conversation, he once again leaned his head against the tree, planning on enjoying the rest of his break in silence.

Deciding that she also would enjoy the silence, Ginny took this opportunity to contemplate the happenings of the three days since Hermione had arrived, or rather, the distinct _lack_ of happenings. As far as she was concerned, life had never become more weird or awkward than it had with the arrival of her brother's best friend.

She was pleased that Ron seemed to be opening up to her so well. In fact, when they were alone together, he almost seemed to act normally; well, as normally as Ron could ever be anyways. Unfortunately, he seemed to draw his line in the sand after his sister, as he remained very withdrawn from the rest of his family. With Hermione though, he wasn't just withdrawn; he was damn near non-existent.

On the first day of her arrival, Ginny watched on sadly as Hermione tried valiantly to establish some sort of contact with her long-time friend, yet was shunned each and every time. That night, she tried to explain to her that this was how things had been ever since they came home from school, though she did not share with her any knowledge of the dreams that had been haunting him. That was for him to explain when he was ready, and she was going to respect that above all else. Having brought her friend up to date on Ron's summer, Ginny concluded by saying that she thought that they should just give him his space and let him figure things out for himself.

Though Hermione nodded her head and outwardly seemed to agree with this plan of action, Ginny could tell by the slightly spaced out look in her eyes that she wasn't really listening at all. 'Knowing Hermione,' Ginny had thought, 'She figures that if she talks to him long enough, he'll break down and share his feelings, then everything will be all better half an hour later. I swear, sometimes my brother's not alone in the _most thick-headed human being ever_ department.' The next night, however, Hermione received a first case dose of exactly how troubled Ron was…

_Laying down in her room and reading a book, Ginny was only mildly startled by the entrance of her summertime roommate. What she was startled by, however, was the pent-up hostility Hermione seemed to possess as she paced back and forth quickly, wringing her hands together and muttering unintelligibly under her breath. Deciding that she would wait until Hermione approached her with whatever troubles she seemed to have, she took back to reading her book. A few minutes later, she was interrupted once again by the sight of a pillow being hurled from Hermione's bed to the wall across the room._

_Marking her page and setting her book down, Ginny sat up and placed a knowing smirk on her face before casually remarking, "You want to talk about it, or would you rather just continue attacking my room? I have a 'you broke it, you bought it' policy in here, just so you know."_

_Sitting on the edge of her bed and continuing to wring her hands, Hermione replied, "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to, it's just that…Unghhh! He can be so infuriating sometimes!"_

_Shaking her head and taking on a mock-reproachful look, Ginny asked, "So, what did my block-head brother do this time?"_

"_That's just it, Gin, it's not what his DID DO, it's what he DIDN'T," her friend replied while staring at the floor, her expression suddenly becoming sad._

_Crossing the room and sitting down next to and putting an arm around her suddenly defeated-looking friend, Ginny asked cautiously, "What happened?"_

"_Well, you know, I thought about what you said last night, but I just thought that maybe he needed somebody to talk to, you know? Somebody outside the family. So I decided that I was just going to make him speak with me. So, first I tried knocking on his door, but just like yesterday, he refused to respond. I wasn't going to give up though, you know? So I just figured I'd wait him out. I mean, he's got to go to the loo sometime, doesn't he?_

"_Anyway, about two hours of sitting on the floor outside his room later, the door opens up. When he looked at me, at first I thought he was going to just slam the door in my face, he looked so startled. Instead, though, he just kept looking, like he was waiting for something. Finally, I decided that I would get things started, so I asked him how he was feeling. He just looked at his feet and mumbled 'OK, I guess'. Well, that made me kind of mad, you know, since I had been waiting all this time, so I figured I'd break out my last resort."_

_Engrossed in the story now, Ginny asked, "And what may I ask is your last resort?"_

"_Well, I don't know if you've ever paid attention or not, but Ron and I tend to…disagree on things from time to time." Before she could continue, she was interrupted by a rather loud snort from her friend. Looking indignant, she continued, "ANYWAY, I figured that if he wouldn't talk to me, he might fight with me, and that could get him to open up a bit, ya know? So I brought up the one subject that has been sure-fire to get us into an argument every time in the past."_

_Cocking an eyebrow questioningly, Ginny asked, "Which is?"_

"_Well, Homework, of course. I asked him how he was coming along with his summer lessons, and told him that I had already finished all of my work. By the way, how are you coming along, Gin? I mean, this is your OWL year coming up, so you really must work hard to-"_

_Tapping her foot impatiently, Ginny interrupted, "Hermione! Off Subject!"_

_Catching herself for a moment, Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly from embarrassment before she continued, "Sorry about that. Well, anyway, so I ask him about his homework, and he says that he hasn't started yet, big surprise. So, figuring on getting a rise out of him, I start explaining to him how important it is to stay ahead of the game when it comes to homework, you know? Because, you know, it really is important, Gin, especially for someone like you who's getting ready for such a difficult year-"_

"_Hermione…"_

"_Yes, sorry, well, anyway…do you know what that...that…that PRAT says to me when I'm done?"_

_Expecting the worst, Ginny shakes her head and prepares to hold in any laughter caused by her brother's idiocy._

"_He agreed with me, Gin! Of all the horrible, no good…he just nodded his head and quietly said 'Yeah, I suppose you're right. I guess I should go ahead and get started then' and shuts his door in my face. He didn't even look at me once, the entire time he was speaking. Unghhhh!!"_

_Looking at her friend confusedly, Ginny asked, "Isn't having people agree with what you say a good thing?"_

_Looking rather exasperated, Hermione replied, "Not from your brother its not. My Ron-"_

"_Ehm-ehm. Your Ron?" Ginny interrupted, her left eyebrow cocked mockingly._

"_Er, yeah, I mean…the Ron I know would have never just agreed to something like that. He would have argued or he would have complained, but he never, ever would have just agreed with me. Oh, Ginny, I'm so worried, what are we going to do?" she finished, her eyes pleading with her friend for an answer._

"_Listen, Hermione, I know you care, and believe me, it's great that he's got good friends like you that can help him through this, but until he decides that he wants to be helped, there's not a whole lot we can do. I mean, you know Ron; when's the last time you remember anybody, excluding teachers and parents, making him do anything? Besides you, he's the most stubborn person I know. When he's ready, he'll come around. Until then, we just have to show him that we're here for him, ya know?"_

_Seeing her friend's solemn nod, Ginny knew that she was agreeing, albeit reluctantly. Now all she had to do was hope to Merlin she was right…_

Just as her thoughts came to a conclusion, the door leading from the back garden to the kitchen opened, and Mrs. Weasley stuck her head out. "Ron! Ginny! That's enough for today. Ronnie, you round up all the tools and finish straightening up and Ginny, go upstairs and get Hermione and bring her down to help with making dinner." Finishing her statement, she quickly ducked back inside.

Standing up and rubbing the aching muscles on her lower back, Ginny stretched her arms to the sky, taking in a deep breath, then let it all out quickly, making a "whoosh!" sound. Turning to her brother, she said, "See ya inside, Ron," and then headed for the house.

* * *

Running up the stairs, Ginny made to enter her room before coming to a complete stop, her hand hovering over the door handle. With a knowing smile, she eased her hand forward and turned the handle slowly, managing to open the door without making but a whisper of noise. She then stuck her head inside, smiling widely as her suspicions were confirmed. Opening the door fully, she slowly crept across the floor, consciously avoiding all the creaky spots. Coming to a stop mere inches from her friend, she stood up to her full height and crossed her arms, taking an "I know what you're doing" stance, before clearing her throat loudly.

"Ehm!"

Jumping nearly a foot in the air, her close proximity to the wall being the only thing that saved her from crashing to the floor, Hermione turned her gaze from the window to her friend so quickly that she became momentarily dizzy. Finally coming to her senses, she began to sputter out quickly, "Ginny! I was just…well…I mean…I t-thought I saw t-this rare b-b-bird in the tree out there…so I…" Her voice lost steam continuously as she rambled, so that her last few words sounded less like an explanation, and more like a whispered plea.

Nodding her head, Ginny muttered back, "Um-hmm." Stepping to the side of her friend, a wicked smile plastered her face as she looked out the window and spied, as she had guessed, her brother, still shirtless, stacking up the last of the lumber and beginning to cover it up for the day. Turning back to the now rather guilty looking party in the room, she said cockily, "My-my, that's some bird, _Hermione_. I don't think I've ever seen one with red_ hair_ like that before. I really must congratulate you on such a rare fin-"

"Oh, shut up!" the now very red-faced Hermione blurted out, her hands coming to cover her eyes. "You know very well I wasn't looking at any _bird_. There's no reason to rub it in."

"So you admit it then? You finally admit that you are in love with my brother?" Though she was saying this in a mocking tone, she was never-the-less pleased that she had her friend pressed into such a deep corner that relaying the truth was near inevitable. Nothing could have prepared her for the shock of how exactly _truthful_ Hermione was about to be.

"Yes, yes, bloody well yes! I'm deeply, absolutely, desperately, and most of all, frustratingly in love with your brother. There, are you happy? A lot of good it does me, though." Finishing this last statement, she took a seat on her cot, her face taking on a look of such pain and frustration that Ginny immediately dropped her playful antics and rushed to her side.

"Oh Hermione, what's the matter? It's supposed to be a _good thing_ that you can finally admit it. And, if it makes you feel any better, I swear by Merlin's pants that he feels the same way. I mean, he's never told me, but I know my brother-"

Interrupting her friend, Hermione shook her head from side to side violently before saying, "No, no, that doesn't matter. I mean, of course it does, it matters a lot, in fact it means everything to me, but it's not what I'm unhappy about." Stopping her speech, she stood and looked at her friend, before she finally started pacing the room.

"Look, what happened at the DoM has really changed my view about some things, alright? I mean, I'm sure it affected everybody, but…well, I almost died. I know I like to play it down as no big deal and all, but the truth is, that scared me more than anything else ever has. It didn't get any easier afterward, either; pretty much all I was aloud to do for the first three weeks was lay around and think, and every time I would think, all I could think about was everything I _haven't _done. I mean, sure, I have learned quite a lot, and it's not like I don't love what I've received from reading, but honestly, what have I done with my life, Gin?" At the conclusion of this statement, she stopped pacing and turned an incredulous glare toward her friend. "I'm always too afraid to actually _do_ anything, so instead I just _read_ about it." Waving her hand loosely at the window she continues, "I mean, I can't even tell the man I love that I want to be with him. Most of the time, I can barely stand to be in the same room as he is, I feel so afraid. The only way I can even talk to him anymore is to fight, because then at least I'm too busy being angry to remember my fear.

"So, anyway, about a week ago, I was thinking about everything for the millionth time, and I just decided to stop. To stop over-thinking things, to stop being so afraid, to just stop all the nonsense, you know? I decided then and there that I was going to live my life for me and no one else, and that I wasn't going to let my fear of failure get in the way anymore. Most importantly, I decided I was going to start my changes with Ronald.

"You know, I'm not an idiot. Even though I used to refuse to let myself believe it, I could tell that he was at least slightly attracted to me. I mean anyone who's read a book on the subject can see that he's practically a textbook case of repressed feelings on attraction. The old me worried too much about failure to truly admit it, but I knew it was there. That's why I decided that, win or lose, I was going to tell him my feelings as soon as I got here. I made myself so excited about it that it was all I could do to keep from jumping on him and kissing him senseless right there in the middle of your kitchen that first day."

Interrupting with a rather disgusted look on her face, Ginny said, "Well, I for one thank you very much for not making me witness my brother being snogged within an inch of his life. So, why didn't you? I mean, after we left the kitchen and all."

"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO THESE PAST FEW DAYS, GIN?!?!" Hermione shouted, her frustration plainly evident. "I've tried to talk to him so many times, but each time, he avoids me. Or ignores me. Or gets rid of me. How can you tell someone that you love them, when they won't even let you tell them anything at all?"

Not sure how to respond, Ginny finally settled for shrugging her shoulders. Ignoring this gesture, Hermione continued on.

"Even if he would talk to me, now that I've seen what the DoM has done to him, I don't think I'd say anything, because it's obvious that he has way too many issues to deal with without adding my feelings to the list. So, once again, I'm forced to wait. And I hate it!" Spitting this last sentence through gritted teeth, she clenched her fists tightly as she started pacing again.

"I still don't understand what the big deal is," Ginny said, looking confused. "I mean, you've liked him for years now, and don't tell me you haven't, 'cause _we both know_ you'd be lying. I can tell from being around him that he's starting to get better, its just happening slowly. Still, I bet he'll be back to his old self in a few months, half a year, tops. What's the big hurry all the sudden?"

"Unghhh! I can't stand it anymore, Gin. I mean, once I resigned myself to the fact that, for whatever cruel, cruel reason, my heart belongs to Ronald and him alone, he's all I've been able to think about. It's just not fair, I mean, it's driving me crazy. I thought it was hard being in a room with him before, now it's almost torture! In some crazy ironic way, his avoiding me feels like just as much of a blessing as it does a curse." Finished listening, Ginny could see the stress built up in her friend.

Standing up suddenly, Ginny hugged her friend tightly and said in the most consoling tone she could muster, "It's alright, it's alright. I know things are hard now, but as hard as it may be, you just have to be patient. I heard a saying in muggle studies last year that I think is very true: Good things come to those who wait."

Leaning back and smirking while brushing away a tear, Hermione playfully questioned, "Oh, so now _you_ are going to quote muggle advice to _me_?"

Before Ginny could respond, however, a booming voice rose from the kitchen. "GINNY! HERMIONE! ARE YOU TWO EVER COMING DOWN HERE?"

Guiding her friend to the door, Ginny said, "Come on, we better get down there, before Mum has a heart attack. Besides, it's time to put you to work, oh great and lazy one."

Come to a sudden stop, a look of concern washed over Hermione's face as she said, "Gin, I really, really am sorry about not helping you guys. I feel terrible just having to sit back and watch."

Shaking her head exasperatedly, Ginny retorted, "Look, Hermione, I'm not gonna tell you again to stop apologizing. For one, you're still too hurt for all that physical activity. Shoot, you couldn't even carry your own bag up here three days ago. And for two, even if you were healthy, I wouldn't want you helping us. Just 'cause Mum is punishing us like this, doesn't mean you have to be part of it. It wouldn't be right." She didn't mention that the most important reason was she felt that Ron opened up more when it was just the two of them, and that Hermione being around would probably be counter-productive to any success she might have gained.

Turning back to the door, she opened it and stepped through to the hallway, then looked back and said, "Now come on, let's go."

* * *

Taking a seat at the table, Ron was the last Weasley to arrive for dinner. He had been surprised when he entered to find the twins sitting there, as they had been mysteriously absent from the house ever since the morning of the prank they played on their mother. 'She must've given them one helluva talking to after she left, to keep them away for so long. Merlin knows they don't cook for themselves. I wonder what they've been eating for the last few days?' he thought to himself. Deciding finally that he really didn't care, he slouched down in his chair and took up his customary mealtime habit of staring blankly at his plate, only looking up when a platter or bowl of food was passed his way.

Light conversation was being made by everyone except for Ron, who didn't care to listen or participate. Not looking up, he reached forward and grabbed the salt shaker and sprinkled a heavy dose over all the contents of his plate, ignoring the warning given by Hermione on the dangers of eating so much salt. Though he could not see it, Hermione's face looked crestfallen at the lack of any kind of angry response from her friend.

Having seasoned his food to his liking, he grabbed his fork and lifted a heaping load of mashed potatoes to his mouth, then began absentmindedly chewing with his teeth and working his tongue as he always did when he ate. After a couple chews, however, something strange happened; rather than feel full of food like it should, his mouth felt strangely empty. Feeling with his tongue, Ron was mystified to find that he no longer seemed to have any food in his mouth. Looking around the table, he saw that nobody seemed to be paying any attention, of which he was glad for.

Finally deciding that he must have dropped the potatoes back on the plate on the way to his mouth, he reached for his knife and cut off a corner of his chicken breast, stabbing it with his fork and following the utensil with his eyes all the way until it reached his mouth, this time sure that he had successfully taken a bite. Much to his frustration, however, his mouth once again emptied shortly after he began chewing.

Placing his fork on the table, he took a longer and harder look at its inhabitants. His mum and dad were locked in private conversation, Hermione and Ginny appeared to be talking about some new muggle band Hermione had heard on her radio back in London, and Fred and George looked to be having a rather animated discussion with each other about the possibilities of some new product for their shop. Looking closer at the two, however, Ron could see that both appeared to steal glances at him every few seconds, albeit in a very covert manner. Returning his attention to the table, he looked in front of his plate and saw the salt shaker he had used to season his meal. Looking further right, however, he saw yet another salt shaker next to his mother's plate. Knowing that they only ever used one set of salt and pepper shakers, his gaze immediately shot to his twin brothers across the table, who had now given up all pretense of fake conversation and were staring back at him intently.

"What did you two do?" he rumbled quietly.

"By jove man, I think it worked!" George said in an excited tone.

"Of course it _worked_, I designed it didn't I?" Fred added confidently. "How'd you like it, Ronniekins? We're calling it Banishing Salt for now. Tell me, were there any side effects?"

"Dry mouth?" George asked.

"Headache?" Fred added.

"A red, blotchy rash on your arse?" Both said at the same time.

"FRED! GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, "I'll not have that kind of conversation at my dinner table!"

Standing so quickly that his chair slid back several feet, Ron turned an incredulous stare on his two brothers. "You…you two disappear for three days, and the next time I see you, you can't even say hello before you start testing one of your crummy products on me?"

"Hey, they're not crummy," Fred said, rising to his feet just as quickly, along with George.

"I'll have you know that Banishing Salt is made from the finest possible ingredients," George added.

"Ron! Fred! George! Sit down this instant!" Mrs. Weasley said in a stern tone. All three seemed to be ignoring her at the moment however.

"I've had just about enough of you two-" Ron said, but was interrupted.

"No, Ron, it's us," George said, sweeping his hand along the entire length of the table, "who've had enough of you. We've all put up with this…attitude, or lack of an attitude for that matter, for about long enough. Fred and I have been giving you some of our best stuff, trying to make you laugh, or at least get under your skin, but every time, you just mope like somebody snapped your wand in half or something. I don't know what's wrong with you, but you need to stop being so selfish and realize that we're just trying to help you."

Taken aback by his brother's honesty, Ron's shock was quickly replaced by anger, steadily building into a rage he had not felt in some time. Feeling the fire flow within himself, he prepared to unleash this rage upon his more than deserving siblings.

* * *

"What did you two do?" Hermione heard Ron say, interrupting her conversation with Ginny. Looking over, Hermione was puzzled by his outburst until she heard the twins excitedly interrogate their brother. The more she listened, the more she realized they must have tried some sort of new product on him. When the three boys stood from the table rather violently, she grew more and more worried as the situation seemed to be barreling out of control. Finally, George yelled something to his younger brother about being selfish, which set a series of events in motion that both confused and frightened her very much.

Things started normal enough, as Ron raised his hands and pointed them at each of his twin brothers and bellowed loudly, his anger seeming to escalate as he continued.

Suddenly, the hushed, panicked voice of George could be heard saying, "N-no, p-p-please stop!" Though the words could be heard, they sounded weak and distant. Just after he finished his plea, both twins simultaneously fell to their knees, their hands rising to grip their throats, their skin suddenly losing all of its color. Throughout their plea, Ron continued his rant.

After a few moments, both twins appeared to be struggling for breath, and began coughing and sputtering, their faces taking on a deep purple color. If Hermione didn't know better, she would have thought that they were choking themselves.

The intensity of their struggles continued to escalate, as each looked to become more and more desperate for air. Then, just as suddenly as they began choking, whatever had gripped them was released as both boys collapsed to the floor, taking in deep gulps of air. In the background, Hermione heard the soft "fwump" of a body falling to the floor, and looked back to where Ron had been standing just in time to hear Mrs. Weasley scream, "RONNIE!"

* * *

Preparing himself for the screaming match that he was about to have with his brother, Fred suddenly began to feel strange. For one thing, all the light in the room began to dim very fast, and the temperature suddenly seemed to drop what felt like sixty degrees in a second. Exhaling, he could clearly see his breath hanging in the air, and beyond that, a most terrible and frightening sight; where his brother had been standing, now stood some sort of evil, foul, extremely powerful being, standing at least ten feet tall and possessing the most frightening pair of red, shining eyes. He was not sure, but he may have jut wet himself, as instantly, a fear rose up in him that he had never experienced before.

Wanting to see his twin, but unable to tear his gaze away from those terrible eyes, his heart nearly stopped beating when the creature reached two long, half decomposed, slime covered hands and wrapped its elongated fingers all the way around his throat, yet did not squeeze shut his air passage. Suddenly, the creature opened its mouth to speak, and the sound of its voice reminded Fred of the deep, frightening rumble of an earthquake.

"DO NOT PRETEND TO KNOW WHAT I AM DEALING WITH, YOU WERE NOT THERE!! YOU BOTH HAVE NEVER CARED ABOUT MY WELL BEING, SO DO NOT FAKE AS THOUGH YOU DO NOW!!"

Distantly, as though hearing a whisper from far away, he heard his twin beg for this…demon to stop, fear etched in his ever word. Rather than stop, however, he felt the hands on his neck begin to squeeze, cutting off his air flow and digging into his skin while also pushing him down to his knees. Reaching up his own hands, he attempted to remove the vile appendages from his neck, but to no avail, as they seemed to have an iron grip. As he was choking, he heard the terrible bellow begin once more.

"YOU WILL BOTH LEAVE ME ALONE! NEITHER OF YOU WILL CROSS MY PATH EVER AGAIN, OR ELSE I.WILL.KILL.YOU!!!"

Then, all at once, everything returned to normal with the lights coming back, the temperature rising once more, the creature gone from Fred's presence and the hand disappearing from his throat. Immediately he fell down to the floor, gasping for air and massaging his sore neck. After a few quiet seconds, he heard his mother pierce the silence by shouting, "RONNIE!"

* * *

A/N: Well, there you have it, I'm leaving you with a bit of intrigue. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wasn't so sure how much I'd like it when I started, but I feel pretty pleased with the finished product. I hope the ending wasn't too confusing for you, I tried to point out as clearly as I could whose point of view I was covering. If you are confused, don't worry, next chapter should clear some things up for you. Now, before I begin giving some love to my wonderful reviewers, I've decided that I'm going to try and point out a different story at the end of each chapter that is one of my personal favorites. So, here goes:

**STORY:** My first story is called "The Price of Love", and is my all time most favorite piece of fan fiction. The full, unedited version can only be found on checkmated(dot)com, and is a _very_ mature story, so I don't recommend any of your kiddies out their check it out. There is an edited version that is just as good story wise, just without most of the sex, that can be found on harrypotterfanfiction(dot)com. It is a wonderful Ron and Hermione love story though, with plenty of laughs, action, and drama thrown in. Now, on to the reviewers.

**Scribblez:** Glad I could bring a little sunshine to your rainy day, so to speak.

**helpmydeath:** I'm glad I'm not the only one who's picked up on that trend. Like anybody else, I love a good Ron and Hermione romance, but just don't push it too hard, ya know?

**Mists:** Yeah, there will be several things about Ron that are going to be different, and great work on your guess about the twins. It's like your reading my mind or something…

**Gregslabrat:** Yeah, he's a bit off, but hey, he's depressed, so I can't have him acting like the normal, easily agitated, overly emotional Ron, right?

**Trude, grayscales and wasu:** Thanks for the continued encouragement, it means the world, guys, it really does. The more people read and review, the more excited I become to write the next chapter.

Cheers!!


	4. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I am not profiting from this story in any way, and only the plot is mine in the first place.

POST DATE: December 24, 2007

**CHAPTER 3**

Sitting next to her husband in one of the purple, plush chairs that adorned the waiting room of St. Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries, Mrs. Weasley nervously wrung her fingers tightly while glancing at the lone entry point for the thirty-fifth time in the past twenty minutes. 'What could be taking so long?' she thought to herself, hunching forward and beginning to rock back and forth slightly. "Something's not right, Arthur," she muttered grimly. "I know it. Something's happened to my baby, and I have to find out what it is!" Finishing this last statement, she began to rise from her chair, intent on marching through the entire hospital, if necessary, in order to find her son.

Seeing his wife's disposition taking a drastic downward spiral, Mr. Weasley ordered, "_Sit down_, Molly," using a strong, non-objectionable tone of voice he only reserved for moments where his wife was obviously not in the correct state of mind to be making her own decisions. Though he loved his wife dearly, and 90 of the time was more than willing to let her run affairs as she saw fit, he also knew that, on occasion, even Molly Weasley needed to be put in her place.

Having watched her retake her seat, he reached his left arm over her shoulders and pulled her in close to him while rhythmically stroking her hair. "Dear, it's barely been twenty minutes. I doubt they've even had enough time to give Ron a thorough examination, much less come up with any kind of diagnosis," he said, adopting his most soothing of tones. Instantly, some of the edge was removed from Mrs. Weasley's nervousness. "Give them time; I'm sure they'll be along as soon as they know anything," he concluded.

"Oh, Arthur, I know they're only doing their best. But…but what if something _really_ is wrong? I know they said that he suffered no lasting damage from what happened at the Department of Mysteries, but what if they missed something? And, oh Merlin, what if it's too late to do anything about it now?" As she finished, her voice became more and more panicked.

Continuing to stroke her hair, Mr. Weasley calmly stated, "Relax, Molly, it's not that serious. Remember what the nurse said when we brought him in. His vital signs are all well within normal range, and he was breathing_just fine_. And remember, Healer Alberts is in there with him right now, and we both know he did a great job with Ron a few weeks ago." Removing his arm and grabbing her by both shoulders, he turned his wife so that she was facing him directly, and looked deeply into her eyes. "Our son is fine, Molly. He's just fine. In fact, I'd wager he won't even have to stay here overnight."

Taking some comfort in her husband's strength, Mrs. Weasley fell from her husband's grip and sank back into her chair and said, "God, I hope so, Arthur. I hope so." Following this plea, both parents lapsed into silence, gripping each other's hands tightly for support.

Three terribly long minutes later, the door to the waiting room began to open, causing Mrs. Weasley to shoot from her chair and charge forward, prepared to beat answers from whoever was entering if necessary. Just as she was about to unleash her attack, however, all the air seemed to be let out of her by the sight standing before her. "Bill?" she asked quietly.

Looking from his mother to his father, who had now risen from his chair also and was standing beside his wife, Bill Weasley finally asked, "Mum, Dad, if it's not too troubling, would one of you mind explaining to me WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON? 'Cause all I know is that I went to the house intent on catching the last bit of dinner, only to find kitchen chairs knocked over, Fred and George white as sheets and refusing to talk to me, Hermione muttering, 'He's gone, he's gone' over and over again, and Ginny crying so hard that I was barely able to get anything out of her other than 'Mum, Dad, Ron…St. Mungo's'. When I got here, the nurse at the front desk would only tell me that Ron had been checked in and that you two were in here." Finished, he looked from parent to parent, his eyes demanding an answer.

Seeing the look of concern on her son's face, Mrs. Weasley let out a loud wail before launching herself at him, wrapping him up in a tight bear hug. Looking over her shoulder, Bill made eye contact with his father, who calmly said, "Calm down, son, everything's alright. Something…odd happened at dinner, and Ron appears to have fainted for some reason. The doctor's are looking after him now, and we're just waiting to hear from them. Hopefully, it won't be much longer." Looking at his son, he could see that this statement had raised more questions than answers. 'Ever the inquisitive one, our Bill,' he thought to himself.

Finally detaching himself from his mother's vice-like grip, Bill quirked an eyebrow and asked, "What happened? Odd, I mean."

Looking from his son to his wife, who had a confused look on her face at the question herself, he replied, "Well, we don't rightly know, to tell the truth." Deciding that this was not the place to be discussing such things, he finished by saying, "We can talk about _that_ more when we get home. Are the children and the house alright?"

Understanding his father's wish to change the subject, Bill followed along and said, "Oh, yeah, I calmed things down a bit before I left. Ginny and Hermione both seemed to get a little better when I promised to floo them both and tell them of any information I find out. Fred and George…well, they both just went up to their old room; they didn't even say a word between them. To tell you the truth Dad, I don't think I've ever seen either of them so quiet before. They barely even acknowledged that anyone else was in the room with them." He shook his head in bewilderment as he concluded.

"Yes, well…they were probably just shocked like everyone else to see their brother pass out like that," Mr. Weasley said, hoping that his lie sounded at least somewhat honest. He could see the look of disbelief in his son's eyes, but was thankful when he pressed no further.

Before the following silence between the three Weasley's could become uncomfortable, the door to the waiting room opened and in stepped a man that was approximately the same age as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, possessing medium height and built, with a head full of dark brown hair, streaked generously with gray. "Arthur and Molly?" he asked. "Ah, here you are," he said while taking on a bright, worry-free smile.

"Healer Alberts!" Mrs. Weasley cried out as she near knocked her son to the floor while rushing to the hospital employee. "Oh, please tell me everything's alright? My Ronnie, is he…well…I mean...," she stuttered, finding it impossible to ask the question she needed answered the most.

Continuing to smile his winning smile, he reached out and patted her shoulder lightly then said, "Relax, relax Molly, he's fine. In fact, he's awake now, and I'll take the two of you to see him as soon as I've discussed my diagnosis with you." Finishing, he looked questioningly at the fourth, much younger party in the room.

"Oh, that's our son Bill. He's a curse-breaker for Gringotts, and he just stopped in to find out what's happened," Mr. Weasley stated, patting his son on the back reassuringly.

"Very well then. Arthur, Molly, to put it simply, your son suffered a stress related trauma that caused him lose consciousness." Seeing the questioning looks on their faces, he continued. "See, sometimes, when a great deal of physical or mental stress is applied to a person in a very short period of time, their body will react to preserve itself by shutting down all major functions, keeping active only those functions necessary for continued survival, like breathing, for instance. This appears to be the cause of your son's episode earlier today."

Tentatively, Molly asked, "So, it's nothing serious?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. It can actually be very serious if the person in question continues to subject themselves to such stress. But, in this case, I don't see there being any lasting harm. In fact, unless he shows any negative signs within the next two hours, I see no reason to keep him here overnight."

Hurling herself at her husband, Mrs. Weasley cried out, "Oh Arthur!" before breaking down into a steady course of sobs. Looking over his wife's shoulder, Mr. Weasley said, "Thank you, Healer Alberts. Once again, I feel like we owe you a debt."

"Now, now, that's entirely unnecessary. I would like to know, though, what he was doing that caused this whole mess?" the healer questioned.

Not knowing what to say, but definitely sure that he was not going to recount what he had seen at the dinner table, Mr. Weasley finally said, "Oh, well, we've been having him work on re-siding our garage as a punishment for his activities earlier this summer. I guess he worked a little too long in the heat."

Looking slightly suspicious, the healer nonetheless replied, "Well, he should avoid that in the future. There've been some record temperatures the last few days, and they can't be good for the boy. Now, if the two of you would come with me, I'll take you to see your son. Oh, I'm sorry sir, but I'll have to ask that only his parents see him right now," he said while glancing over to Bill.

Nodding his head in understanding, Bill said, "That's alright, I need to floo back to The Burrow and relay the good news anyway, before Ginny loses her patience and comes storming in here looking for answers. Thanks, Healer Alberts." With that, all four left the room, Bill heading left while Healer Alberts and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley headed right.

* * *

After a short walk, the three came to a stop in front of a rather mundane looking room, Healer Alberts motioning for the parents to wait. "Now, before we enter, I wanted to go over something with the two of you in private." Noticing the worried look on Mrs. Weasley's face, he chuckled lightly before saying, "Relax, Molly, it's nothing bad. In fact, if my suspicions are correct, I actually think it is a fairly good thing. Definitely original, in any case.

"Now, when we were bringing Ron out of his unconscious state, everything seemed to be going quite normally; however, once he had regained consciousness, the nurses and I noticed something quite abnormal, which leads me to ask the both of you a question: have either of you ever noticed any…metamorphmagus tendencies in your son?"

Of all the questions he could have asked, that one in particular was about the last that either parent could have suspected. So blown away was Mr. Weasley, that it took him a full minute before he could finally choke out, "Excuse me?" Mrs. Weasley merely looked confused, as though she couldn't quite understand what the healer was saying.

"Yes, well, see, when a metamorphmagus sleeps, they retain whatever changes to their body that they have made, as they have retained some level of consciousness, no matter how small. However, when something happens to make them unconscious, they lose their ability to control whatever part of themselves they are altering, causing it to revert to its original state. This has occurred with your son."

"What do you mean? What's changed?" asked Mrs. Weasley frantically, finally coming out of her trance.

Raising his hands defensively, the healer quickly stated, "No need to worry, Molly, your son's suffered no harm. Rather than explain it to you, however, why don't I simply _show_ you instead." Seeing the two nod cautiously, he then turned the handle on the room door and led them inside.

Her eyes immediately coming to rest on the young man lying in the hospital bed, Mrs. Weasley shouted out, "MY BABY!!!" while sprinting to the bed and enveloping her youngest son in the tightest of hugs.

After a few moments, seeing the pleading look from the boy over his mother's shoulder, Healer Alberts grinned and said, "Erm, Molly, perhaps you should hold off on such…exuberant behavior, at least for now."

Pulling back as though she were clutching someone on fire, Mrs. Weasley began smoothing her son's hair and clothes while quickly muttering, "Oh my! Of course, what was I thinking! I was just so worried."

Coming to his wife's side, Arthur put an arm around her waist while saying, "Well, no need for alarm now, Dear. Obviously, he's in good health. How are you feeling, son?"

His face coloring slightly, Ron looked down at his bed and answered quietly, "Honestly? Rather embarrassed at the moment. I hope I haven't caused you any trouble?" Finishing his question, he ventured a look at his father from the corner of his eyes.

"Nonsense!" cried out Mrs. Weasley. "You've been no trouble whatsoever. The only thing that's important now is that we get you home and get you feeling better!"

"Ehm, ehm."

Hearing the healer's interruption, Mr. Weasley suddenly remembered their conversation in the hall. "Son, the healer was just explaining that he needed to run a few tests while we were here, to explain a few things. Is that alright with you?"

Looking confusedly at his father, then at the healer, Ron replied, "Yeah, I don't see why not. What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing at all, my boy, nothing at all. I just wanted to show your parents something that we noticed while reviving you. Now, if you don't mind, I'll need you to remove the upper portion of your hospital robes."

His cheeks coloring slightly, Ron glanced at his mother then said quietly, "Do I have to?"

Patting his son on the back, Mr. Weasley said, "Of course not, son, but it could help us understand what's happened today."

Seeing that all three adults very much wanted this, Ron huffed slightly before grabbing the hem of his robes, and pulling them over his head, exposing his chest.

Looking at Ron for a moment, the healer calmly stated, "Now Ron, I'm going to use a spell on you that will once more make you unconscious, but in a very controlled manner. The spell is similar to the stupefy spell, but without all the punch, if you catch my drift." Seeing the boy's nod of compliance, the healer reached inside his robes and brought out his wand, aimed at the boy and said 'Profundus Quiesco!'" Instantly the boy collapsed back into his bed.

After a few moments, Mrs. Weasley suddenly gasped. "Oh my! How is that possible?"

Seeing the look of confusion on Mr. Weasley's face, the healer said, "I think, Arthur, that she is referring to the change in your son's chest."

Looking at his son, Mr. Weasley was shocked to see the deep, knarled scar tissue covering Ron's chest and arms. Finally feeling able to speak, he sputtered out, "B-but, I could have sworn just moments ago that his…that he…where did all that come from?"

Looking to the two adults, Healer Alberts swept his hand in the direction of Ron's chest and said, "_This_ is the condition your son was in upon arrival at the hospital, a condition I fully expected, considering the nature of the attack upon him. As I said before, you must expect that some damage will be permanent to his skin in these areas, so deep was the scaring. However, as soon as we brought him back to consciousness, young Ron's chest reverted to the condition you all saw a few minutes ago."

Gasping, Mrs. Weasley interrupted, "I've seen him with his shirt off earlier this week, too. In the heat of the day, he takes it off to work on the garage, and I'm almost certain that he had no marks on his chest then, either. I just didn't pay enough attention to notice."

Nodding his understanding, the healer continued, "To prove my point, observe." With that, he pointed his wand at the young man once again and said, "Evanesco!" Immediately, the scars and cuts vanished, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. Shortly after, Ron's eyes opened.

"Would one of you mind letting me in on the secret now?" he asked in an annoyed voice.

Looking to his parents and receiving a nod of compliance, Healer Alberts explained to Ron that which he had told his parents only moments before. Upon finishing his recount of events, the healer stood back and waited patiently for the boy's reply.

With a look of incredulity deeply etched into his face, Ron finally responded. "You're joking, right? What, did Fred and George get to you somehow? Are you trying to tell me that _I'm_ a metamorphmagus? You must be bloody insane!"

Instantly, Mrs. Weasley lashed out, "Ronald! Language!"

Ducking his head down momentarily from his scolding, Ron finally said, "Sorry Mum, but you heard him. He's got to have a few screws loose upstairs, if you catch my drift. I'm no metamorphmagus!"

Smiling and chuckling lightly, the healer interrupted, "Well, Ron, I don't know about my sanity, but I've got a nurse and two parents to back up my story. Now, we haven't confirmed your status as anything, yet, so don't go getting any hopes up. I've already taken a few blood samples from you, which I'll be using to test for any abnormalities. That should only take two or three days. Until then, all I can tell you is that, well, there's nothing concrete to tell. If you do turn out, however, to possess the metamorphmagus ability, I would suggest getting in contact with a more experienced metamorph so that you can learn better the extent of your abilities. I will tell you, though, that I've never seen such strong use of ability naturally. Normally, a metamorph can maybe accidentally change their eye color, maybe a few strands of hair, but to completely alter your entire upper body, well, that's fairly strong for unintentional use.

"Now, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you two," nodding at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, "to come with me, so that we can finish observing your son. Like I said, if there's no change after a few hours, he'll be on his way home tonight." Finishing his statement, he led the other two adults from the room, leaving one extremely confused young man alone to ponder his thoughts.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, after displaying no changes to his physical state, Ron was discharged from the magical hospital and sent home with his parents. During his wait in the hospital bed, he attempted several times, all of them unsuccessful, to change some aspect of his physical appearance. Finally growing frustrated with his failures, he threw himself back against his bed in a huff, deciding that it was all just some big mistake. Someone _like him_ would never have such an important ability.

Reaching the hospital floo, he watched on as the healer shook hands with his mother and father one last time and reassured them that he was fine, and that the events that brought him to the hospital in the first place would leave no lasting effects. Then, at his mother's urging, he pinched out a bit of powder from the jar on the mantle, threw it at the flames, stepped in and in a clear voice stated, "The Burrow!" Immediately, he felt a twisting motion in his body.

Shortly after, he was thrown from the fireplace, flailing his arms wildly as his balance failed him. Rather than get better, however, he became more unbalanced, remaining standing by the nearest of threads, as a weight seemed to be suddenly hanging from his neck.

From beside his head, he heard an emotion-filled voice choke out, "Don't you ever do that to me again, Ronald Weasley! DON'T YOU EVER!" Barely, he recognized this voice as Hermione's.

"Can't…breath…choking…!" he sputtered, as the arms wrapped around his neck tightened.

Pulling herself away from him quickly, Hermione stepped back and blushed prettily as she stared at the floor and responded, "Well it's…it's good to see you're alright, then."

Slightly embarrassed himself, Ron had no time to think about what had just happened, as Ginny flew to him and enveloped him in yet another bone crushing hug. "Leave it to you, Ron, to worry the lot of us for nothing." Though she attempted to sound jovial, the hitch in her voice was not missed by anybody in the room. Becoming more quiet, she stepped back and looked up at her brother and said, "I'm glad your alright, big brother."

Smiling back, Ron patted her gently on the shoulder in an attempt to show her that he wasn't going anywhere, when he felt a hand swat his back several times. Looking to his left, he saw a grinning Bill. "Bill, what're you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, heard something about one of my brothers fainting like a little girl, so I figured I'd come see what the problem was." Seeing Ron's scowl, he pulled his brother into a manly hug and whispered to him, "Glad you're alright, Ron."

Pulling away from his brother just as his mother and father entered the room, Ron asked, "Where're Fred and George?"

Looking more than a little uneasy, Ginny stepped forward and said, "Um, they were feeling a little…tired, so they decided to head on home to their flat about half an hour ago. They said to give you their best wishes, though."

Smirking at the thought, Ron said, "Yeah, right. I'd never want the best wishes of those two, or I wouldn't be able to sit down right for a week!" Though everybody laughed at this, Ron didn't notice that most of the laughter sounded rather forced.

Attempting to change the subject, Ginny asked, "So Ron, what'd the healer say?"

Before Ron could attempt an answer, Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue then said, "My, my, look at how late it is! We can talk more tomorrow. You three," she said, motioning to Ron, Ginny and Hermione, "Off to bed with you, this instant. Bill, will you be staying? I could whip up a spot of tea, if you like."

Shaking his head and taking a step in the direction of the fireplace, Bill replied, "No, Mum, that's alright. I've got some things I need to be getting back to."

Her questioning expression moving to a scowl, Mrs. Weasley retorted, "_Things_, indeed. Tell Fleur I said hello, will you? And just when are you planning on making an honest woman out of her, eh?"

His face coloring deeply, Bill chose not to respond as he muttered, "Good night, everyone," then quickly flooed away. The rest of the room laughed heartily at his show of cowardice.

Looking at the staircase, Mrs. Weasley said, "Off to bed, and that's the last I'll say of it." Quickly, they headed upstairs.

Reaching the second floor and passing the girls who had stopped at Ginny's room, Ron was just rounding the staircase and making his way up when he heard, "R-Ron…wait." Looking back with an eyebrow raised confusingly, he saw Hermione standing a few feet away, wringing her hands and appearing as though she was at war with herself over something. Finally, she walked up, hugged herself to him and kissed him on the cheek, then whispered in his ear, "I was so worried. I really am glad you're alright." Turning before he could see her blush once more, she quickly made her way to Ginny's room and shut the door.

Slowly, Ron's hand reached up and felt his cheek, his body momentarily mesmerized by the kiss he had just received. Finally, he shook his head to clear his mind enough that he could make his way up to his room, where he knew that yet another torturous night of sleep awaited.

* * *

"RON! GINNY! HERMIONE! GET UP AND GET DOWN HERE FOR BREAKFAST!" bellowed Mrs. Weasley.

Stretching like a cat, Ron was pleasantly surprised to find that he felt more rested than he had in months. Though he could vaguely remember having _the dream_ during the night, it seemed neither as pronounced nor as potent as it had in nights past. He felt so good in fact, that when he heard his stomach rumble as he was putting on a shirt, he didn't even hesitate to head downstairs and join the rest of his family for breakfast.

Walking through the door, a spring in his step, he whistled lightly as he walked over, pecked his mother on the cheek, then pulled out a chair and took his seat, surveying the table for any food that may already be accessible. Seeing a platter filled high with toast, he zealously began buttering two slices, then reached for the marmalade.

Throughout this entire series of activities, the other patrons of the Weasley kitchen, including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione, merely stared on in wonderment. This was the most energy and enthusiasm any of them had seen Ron use in months, and none of them quite knew what to make of it. Finally, Ginny's face took on a smirk as she said, "My, aren't we…_chipper_ this morning. What, did the Cannons win the cup during the middle of the night or something?"

Looking up from his toast, he took on a smirk of his own before retorting, "Are you kidding? You'll be captain of the Gryffindor team before that lazy bunch o' sods finally wins the cup, so I'm not holdin' my breath!" Seeing her scowl, he finished, "I don't know, I just feel…different this morning. Better. Lighter, if that makes any sense at all."

Bustling over and placing platters of sausage, eggs and biscuits on the table, Mrs. Weasley was extremely pleased to see her son fill his plate with heaping piles of each before tucking in with his usual exuberance. "Well, whatever's got you feeling better, it's got your appetite feeling better too!" Smiling happily, she returned to the stove to make more, just in case he felt like seconds.

Pleasant conversation filled the room for the next few minutes, the youngsters discussing what to do with their day, since Ron and Ginny had been told they did not have to work on the garage for the rest of the week. Just as a picnic to the pond was being tossed around, a light knock was heard at the door. Rushing over to answer, Mrs. Weasley quickly opened up and looked outside.

The two men that stood before her were rather plain looking, each very clean and well groomed, wearing identical formal robes. Mistaking the pair for some sort of sales wizards, she quickly said, "Sorry, gentlemen, but we'll not be having any of your wares today," and moved to shut the door. Just as the door was almost closed, however, a cane from one of the men snuck between it and the jamb, keeping it from closing.

"Erm, Mrs. Weasley, I hate to barge in like this, but we were hoping that we could have a moment of your time. It has to do with your son," said the man on the left, who upon second glance appeared to be slightly older than his companion who was holding the cane.

Suddenly taking on an apprehensive look, she replied, "Oh, wait. Are you some sort of government officials?" Shaking her head from side to side, she asked, "Alright, what have they done?"

Not looking the slightest bit confused, the man on the left asked lightheartedly, "Why, Mrs. Weasley, whoever do you mean?"

"My sons, Fred and George, I'm sure they're who you're here about. What have they done, and how much damage have they caused?"

Chuckling lightly, the younger of the two pressed lightly on the door, opening it more fully before responding, "No, no, we're here for your _other_ son. Your youngest, Ronald? I assume he's feeling better today?"

"And just what do you know of it?" questioned Mr. Weasley, who had by now gotten up and was standing beside his wife, his wand clutched readily behind his back. "Just who are you and what are you doing here?"

Retaining his winning smile, the older of the two men responded, "Well, who we are is…complicated, and I'm afraid we can't really get into it. To make our lives easier, why don't you call me Jared, and my companion Brian? Now, as for why we're here, I already told you, we've come to speak with you about your son."

Deciding quickly that he did not like the looks of these men one bit, Mr. Weasley began closing the door and said, "I'm sorry, we're not interested."

As the door was closing, the one calling himself Brian quickly said, "If you don't listen to us, I guarantee your son will only get worse again."

Catching the door just in time, Mrs. Weasley whipped it open and asked, "Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?"

"Why, not at all, my dear lady, merely the truth." No longer waiting for an invitation, both men walked forward and entered the house, gently brushing past the two elder Weasley's. "I suppose you'll be wanting to send the youngsters away so we can talk, so my partner and I will just wait patiently until you're ready." With that, they both took up post near the counter, continuing to smile brightly and showing an unnervingly sunny disposition. Seeing the look of foreboding on Mrs. Weasley's face, Jared said jovially, "I assure you, we are not here to harm you. In fact, you can hold our wands, if you want." Reaching inside their robes, the two men pulled out their wands and laid them on the counter and moved away, followed shortly after by Mrs. Weasley, who scooped the wands up.

Throughout the entire exchange, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat quietly and observed. Hermione looked to be becoming increasingly nervous, while Ginny and Ron seemed to get agitated. 'Just who are these nutters coming into our house,' Ron thought, though he refrained from any outburst. Unable to use his wand, he did not want to escalate any situation his parents would have to take care of.

Breaking the silence, the three were stunned to hear the voice of Mrs. Weasley behind them, "Ginny, Ron, Hermione, you three head on upstairs to Ron's room, and stay there until I come and get you."

"But Mum-" cried Ginny.

"No buts, young lady. Get moving. _NOW_!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask that young Ronald stay behind, as he is the key to our conversation. Once we get started, I'm sure you'll agree," said Jared, still smiling brightly. Mrs. Weasley noticed that both men's teeth were almost _unnaturally_ perfect.

"No! _We'll_ decide-" began Mrs. Weasley, before she was interrupted by her husband.

"Now Molly, lets hear what the man has to say." Leaning in closer, he whispered into her ear, "We don't know who they are or what they want, and I don't want to upset them just yet. Right now, they seem cooperative enough, let's keep it that way." Raising his voice so that all could hear, he said, "Ron, you may stay."

Pouting slightly, Ginny whined, "But, but…if Ron gets to stay-"

"Now that's enough of that, young lady!" demanded Mrs. Weasley. "Get upstairs this instant!"

Seeing the determined expressions of both her parents, Ginny begrudgingly turned and headed out the door. With one last, worried look at Ron, Hermione followed closely behind her.

Once the two had climbed the stairs, Mrs. Weasley cast a silencing charm on the kitchen door. Seeing the confused looks on the faces of the two men, she commented, "Extendable ears. My twin sons invented 'em, and all seven children are quite proficient at using them. Now, if you two don't mind, can you please tell me what you're doing in my house?"

Stepping forward and pointing at the kitchen table, Brian calmly asked, "Why don't we all have a seat, yes? This conversation could take a moment, and we might as well get comfortable." Shortly after he finished, all five people sat at the table.

Staring pointedly at the two men, two minutes passed by before Mrs. Weasley finally asked impatiently, "Well?"

"Oh, sorry Ma'am, but we're not quite ready yet. You see, there's still one more guest coming, and we feel you all will be a little more comfortable with this meeting once he arrives." Looking at his watch, Jared continued, "He should be here any minute. From our experience, he's generally quite punctual. Oh, and don't worry about work, Sir," he said while turning to look at Mr. Weasley. "As far as your boss is concerned, you've called in sick this morning. Quite the nasty case of the flu, I'm afraid." Finished speaking, he calmly folded his hands on the tabletop in front of him and continued to smile politely.

Beginning to become fed up with these two and their antics, Mr. Weasley stood from his chair and said agitatedly, "Now look here, I don't know who you two are or where you come from, but I've had about enough-" He got no further as a familiar voice shouted from the living room fireplace.

"Arthur? Molly? I've received your note and come as you've asked," shouted the ever-calm and serene voice of Albus Dumbledore.

Glancing questioningly at her husband and seeing just as confused a look on his face, Mrs. Weasley called back, "We're in the kitchen, Albus. Feel free to come on in." A few short moments later, the Headmaster himself walked through the doorway, as impressive a sight to behold as ever.

Quickly taking in the tense sight before him, Dumbledore smiled slightly and said, "Hello Molly, Arthur and young Mr. Weasley." Turning to the other two men, he said, "I'm sorry, I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Albus Dumbledore," and extended his hand to shake. Both men shook his hand quickly while one of them said, "The pleasure is ours, Sir. You can call me Jared, and my partner here Brian."

Looking around the table slowly, Dumbledore finally said, "Well, I received an invitation, one that I initially believed to be from Molly Weasley mind you, to come over and enjoy a bit of nice homemade sweets, although I am beginning to think I've been a bit bamboozled." Smiling knowingly, he turned to the two unknown men and asked, "Tell me, how did you make your owl appear and act so similarly to the Weasley family owl? Usually I'm quite good at spotting fakes."

Smiling as always, Brian said, "I'm sorry, Sir, but we're not able to divulge that information. Trade secret, you understand." Seeing the amused nod from the famous Headmaster, he continued, "Please, Sir, why don't you have a seat? Now that you've arrived, I believe this meeting can begin."

Watching the Headmaster take a seat directly across from herself, Mrs. Weasley said, "Albus, I'm sorry, we had no idea they had involved you. We're not even sure who _they_ are. They just showed up about ten minutes ago saying that they had information about Ron."

Holding up his hands to stay her, Dumbledore jovially responded, "Think nothing of it, my dear Molly. I'm always in the mood for a good chat. Now," he turned to look at the closest of the two men, "Brian, I believe, what is it about young Mr. Weasley here that you wish to share with us?" Finishing his question, he winked ever-so-slightly in Ron's direction, his eyes twinkling brightly.

"Well, you certainly cut to the chase," said Jared. "I like that. The answer to your question, Sir, is a bit complicated, so I feel I must start at the beginning. You see, shortly after the first fall of he-who-must-not-be-named, an amazing discovery was made dealing with the scientific study of the metamorphmagus ability. It was discovered that the cause of the metamorphmagus ability is not magical, as one would expect, but rather involves the interaction of a wizard's magic with a certain protein that exists in the brains of all human beings. Now, for 99.99999 of all human kind, this protein simply lies dormant, unusable. For the remaining 0.00001, however, it is very much active. If the protein is active within a muggle, nothing comes of it, and the muggle is no different than any other. If, however, the protein is active within the brain of someone possessing magical blood, that person has the rare but exciting abilities of a metamorphmagus."

Interrupting here, Mrs. Weasley asked, "So, are you saying that my Ronnie has this…port-thingy?"

"It's Protein," said Brian, "and…yes and no." Seeing the look of confusion on her face, he continued, "Up until roughly a month and a half ago, the protein within your son's body remained dormant, as is the case with almost anybody. Due to an…unfortunate incident at the Department of Mysteries, however, that is no longer the case."

Feeling somewhat shocked, Ron piped in for the first time, barely whispering, "The brain…"

"Quite right, my young man," said Jared. "You see, once the discovery of this protein was made, it was decided amongst people who will not be mentioned here today that it would be beneficial to learn as much as possible about it, and to see if it could be manipulated to our advantage."

Smiling understandingly, Dumbledore said, "Essentially, you were attempting to create a sort of…amplified metamorph, am I correct?"

Nodding his head, Brian said, "Almost. We weren't only trying, we actually succeeded. Using a combination of muggle scientific methods and magical abilities, we were able to culture the protein to be more than fifty times as potent as normal. The test subjects who were injected with the protein were not only able to change their own appearance; they were able to change the appearance of their surroundings, as well. Not only that, but we found that they could control who could see what, so that, for example, five different people in the same room would be seeing five different scenarios of how the room was put together."

Seeing the slightly awed faces of the Weasley family, Jared interrupted, "The tests were not without their drawbacks, however. We were unfortunately never able to develop an injectable version of the protein compound that would remain permanent. For some reason, the host body would begin to reject the injected protein after a few hours, and by the time four or five days had passed, all test subjects would lose their abilities completely. It was at this point that we decided to attempt…different methods. You see, to culture the proteins properly, they had to be developed within a human brain. From there, they would be extracted and placed in vials for later use. Well, we theorized that if the proteins were transmitted _directly_ from a brain to a host, that the transition may become more permanent. To accomplish this task, we not only cultured the protein during the brain's development, but also magically enhanced the brain itself so that, when the time was right, it would be able to administer the protein to its host subject. Most unfortunately, however, a certain_incident_ within the Department of Mysteries destroyed all the cultured brains two days prior to their testing date. Only one brain was able to make its delivery of protein to a viable host, and that viable host is currently sitting in this room."

Feeling all eyes upon him suddenly, Ron hunched down in his chair and said quietly, "B-but, I don't…I couldn't…I haven't been able to do anything, change anything I mean. Your test must not have worked."

"Well, that's one opinion, Sir, however I have another," Jared said. "Exactly what do you remember happening during your…episode at dinner last night? Oh, and before you ask how I know about that, all I can tell you is that my people have found it in the best interests of all involved to keep tight tabs on you, Mr. Weasley, up until now, to see how things have progressed."

Waiting until the man finished talking, Ron finally answered, "Well, to tell the truth, I don't remember much. One minute, I was angry at Fred and George, then I stood up to tell them off and all of the sudden everything went black. I remember it felt really cold for a split second, and then I don't remember anything at all. The next thing I knew, I was waking up at St. Mungo's."

"Indeed, indeed. I believe that if you ask either of your twin brothers, Sir, their account of the events will be _very_ different. You see, we believe that last night you used your new ability for the first time, at least in such a high dose. The reason you passed out may be as simple as overexposure," finished Jared.

"Overexposure?" asked a bewildered looking Mr. Weasley.

Still smiling, Brian interrupted, "Yes, it would be similar to what a man dieing of thirst would experience, should he happen upon a lake. He would inevitably drink too much, too fast, in which case he would simply end up making himself sick. In this instance, your body, or primarily your brain, was dieing to use the built up concentration of protein it had accumulated, and once it did, it couldn't handle the overload."

Comprehension dawning on her face, Mrs. Weasley asked, "Is that why you said earlier that he would go bad again? Because of the built up port-thingy?"

"Correct, Ma'am. You see, when test subjects used the ability continuously, the proteins were discharged from their brains and would flow through their bloodstream. However, when they did not use their abilities enough, the protein would build up in their brains, accumulating more and more. Now, in a normal metamorph, this is no problem, as the protein is not potent enough to cause any damage. In a test subject containing the enhanced protein, though, we have discovered that as the protein accumulates in the brain, it begins to affect that subject's emotions and subconscious thoughts. Most subjects would experience very large mood swings, along with highly undesirable dreams. If left unused, we theorized that after one to two weeks, the subject would lose the capacity to judge right from wrong, essentially becoming insane."

"But, it's been more than a month and a half, and he's just now used his abilities the way you say he needs to," said Mr. Weasley.

"Yes, Sir, we've thought about that, and we believe that the protein has spent much of this time not only accumulating, but also becoming accustomed to your son's body, slowing its progress," continued Brian. "However, if it is now fully accustomed, your son needs to learn how to outlet his abilities very soon. This is where you come in, Professor Dumbledore."

Remaining unfazed, Dumbledore continued to listen casually.

"You see," said Jared, "the people I work for are very aware of the organization that your run, Sir, and are also aware that one of its members is a metamorph. Having taken the stance to not become directly involved with your conflict, we have decided that Mr. Weasley here is to be left in your charge, and that we will merely continue to observe from afar, as we have done already."

"Now wait just a soddin' minute," Mrs. Weasley burst out, "are you trying to tell me that if you had chosen, you would have just _taken_ my son from me?!? Why does it have to be my son? Why can't you just make a bunch more brains with these port-thingies in them?"

Seeing her angry stature, Dumbledore quickly interrupted, "Now Molly, please try to remain calm. We are here to discuss matters calmly, and anger will get us nowhere." Turning back to Jared, he continued, "Am I to have your word that Mr. Weasley is not to be touched? For if I feel that there is even the slightest bit of a chance that he will be taken by your people, I assure you that he will be taken away to a place that you will never find him." Though his words were casual, there was a hidden strength behind them that most definitely made them a promise and not a threat.

Nodding his compliance, Brian answered, "Yes, you have the word of our company. We wish only to observe his progress. To answer your question, Mrs. Weasley, the culturing process for these brains takes a total of more than four years from start to finish. So, for the next four years, your son is the only viable test subject we have with which to observe. Besides, eventually, you may see that his abilities could be…most useful to your cause."

Becoming visibly agitated for the first time, Dumbledore grabbed the man's gaze with his eyes the way one man might grab another's collar and said menacingly, "The people _I_ represent would never use someone simply for the power that they behold."

Looking unaffected by the man's outrage, Jared said, "Indeed, we thought as much. Either way, we are only here to inform you of this so that you may get him the help he will need as soon as possible. Now if you will excuse us, my partner and I will be on our way. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, it was a pleasure, Professor Dumbledore, an honor, and Ronald, well, best of luck to you, young man. Good day." With that, both men rose from their seats.

Walking around the table, Brian held out his hand to Mrs. Weasley and said, "I think we'll be needing those back," while pointing at the two wands held in her grip.

Looking up at him incredulously, she said, "What, that's it? You just come into my house, tell me about this…this port-thingy you let loose on my son, then leave?"

Smiling consolingly, he responded, "Ma'am, I assure you that we've provided all the information you need to know at this stage. This situation is just as new to us as it is to you, I assure you of that." Still holding out his hand, he smiled wider and nodded his appreciation as the matriarch of the Weasley household lifted the two wands to his hand. Walking towards the door, he stopped, looked back and said, "Oh, and about Healer Alberts. I wouldn't worry too much about those tests he wanted to run. As far as he's concerned, your son checked in and checked out last night with absolutely no _abnormalities_, if you catch my meaning." Silently, both men walked from the house, the popping sound of apparition heard only seconds afterwards. All four people left in the room got the distinct impression that neither man would be seen again.

"How could you two let them just _leave_?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking pointedly between her husband and Dumbledore.

Seeing that Mr. Weasley appeared to be in a semi-state of shock, Dumbledore finally responded, "Molly, I believed them when they said that they could offer us no further information. To attempt to hold them against their will, I believe, would only have earned us an enemy amongst the people that they worked for, and I did not want to chance that."

Quickly changing the subject, the aged Headmaster said, "Now, we must begin planning immediately. If what they said was true, and from the recount of yesterday evening's events I'm sure it is, then young Mr. Weasley here must begin training as soon as possible." Looking at each of the three faces pointed in his direction, he continued, "I believe that, for the time being, secrecy is of the utmost importance. That is why I am leaving from here to directly retrieve Ms. Tonks immediately, by myself." Turning to Ron, he concluded, "Mr. Weasley, hopefully after some time spent with Ms. Tonks, we will better be able to understand your situation. Until then, I will trust you to keep informed only those you trust completely." Upon finishing this statement, he stood and made his way quickly from the room, saying his goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as he walked out the door, headed for the floo.

Sitting in a state of semi-shock, all Ron could think was, 'Is this really happening?'

* * *

A/N: Whewww!! I guess, since it's Christmas and all, as a present I'm giving you guys almost twice the normal chapter size. This chapter started out being nowhere near as big as it finished, but as I was writing, I just kept on thinking of things to add. So, what do you think? See, I could have been mean and made you wait for the explanation of what's happening to Ron for much longer, but I decided to be kind. In return, you all should be kind an REVIEW!! Well, now that I've got that out of my system, on to the love!

**STORY RECOMMENDATION:** After much consideration, this week's story recommendation goes to a story that is actually still ongoing, titled "Sorting Out The Boys", by mkwmkw. It can be found at simplyundeniable(dot)com, and is, without a doubt, _the funniest_ piece of HP fanfiction I have found on the web, bar none. It is a post HBP fic, mostly dealing with the Ron/Hermione ship, but with some Harry/Ginny thrown in. Now, on to the reviewer love!

**Mists:** I'm sure at some point Ron will feel guilty, but he has to be told what happened, first!

**Trude:** Nice guess on the possession bit, it's what I would have thought. Actually, I was hoping you all would think that way, just so I could throw you for a loop!

**Helpmydeath:** Yeah, hopefully now you won't feel so bad towards Ron. Now that we know what's causing his depression, hopefully he'll be better from here on out, right?

**PadawanHermione, joshysgirl, alexiel90, GregsLabrat, and InsertBrillianceHere:** Thanks for the continued support, it means so much to me!

Happy Holidays everyone!

Cheers!!


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